Across Enemy Lines
by the Black Rose
Summary: 1xR--AU WW2--Ch. 7: “I’m not a doll, Heero. And neither am I a queen. I feel lost and confused, and love - so many things a queen would not. I know the names of the people whose fates I decide."-“That’s your decision, then? To do nothing?"
1. The First Crossing

_Across Enemy Lines_

Well, it was only a matter of time! Yes, we have finally collaborated on a fic, and it's going to be a bit of an epic!

Author's Notes: Just a quick couple of notes before we get started. This story is the first of our shared works. It is an alternate universe fic based loosely on events and locations named during the course of WWII. We have taken a few liberties in expressing our own version of the war, manipulating facts to work the characters in, but it is not our intention to offend or upset anyone (especially of German or Japanese nationality), and we stress that this is fiction, though we do try to be as accurate as we can where the very important facts are concerned. We apologize in advance for whatever ignorance we may show throughout the course of our little project.

Also, due to the complicated task of deciphering the German phrases, we have placed MOST of the words that would normally appear in German, into English italicized print. This way, you can understand what the Nazi soldiers are saying, and you aren't forced to scroll all the way to the bottom of the page to find out what the words really mean.

Oh yes… Disclaimer: We, the Sisters of Sadism, the Goddesses of Pain (and all the other titles people have bestowed upon us), do solemnly swear to do our best to torture Heero and the G-boys, while delivering a healthy dosage of Heero/Relena romance to you, our loyal readers. But, sadly we must confess…**sniffle, sniffle**…we do not own Gundam Wing or its characters. But if you want to know what we'd do to them if we did, just keep reading!

Well, we suppose that about covers it…please read on, and enjoy!

ACROSS ENEMY LINES

By: Stella & Luvspook

"The world turns and the world changes,

But one thing does not change.

In all of my years, one thing does not change.

However you disguise it, this thing does not change:

The perpetual struggle between Good and Evil."

---T.S. Eliot

Western Europe, June 1944, A.D.

Just after the Allied landing at Normandy (D-Day)

Part I, Chapter 1

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes were the stars. The night was still and quiet, and they twinkled blissfully above him, blotted out in patches by the canopy of trees that he had come to rest beneath. He lay very still trying to gauge his surroundings, his ears being met with nothing but the sounds of a light breeze stirring the branches around him as he slowly became aware of the increasingly fiery ache his left side. With a great amount of effort, he slid a trembling hand towards the site of the pain, feeling the torn flesh and catching some of the hot sticky liquid that was flowing out of the wound. Raising a hand to his face, he could see the glint of red in the pale moonlight. 'Blood. My blood.' Gritting his teeth, he struggled to sit up, thankful that he was at least still able to move. He let a groan escape his lips in spite of himself as he slid towards the tree trunk just a few feet away, the dead leaves of the forest floor rustling and sticking to him, cemented with his blood. Gasping for breath, he struggled to remove his jacket, madly searching with no success for the small first aid kit they had all been issued. But then he heard them. Voices. Footsteps crashing through the brush. And he saw them – dark shadows emerging from the trees, the silhouettes of rifles and helmets gaining ground, threatening to discover him. Automatically, his right hand flew to his back, searching for the pistol he always kept in his waistband. Not there! He must have lost it when they crashed. Keeping his eyes trained on the approaching soldiers, he let one of his hands rove over the ground, hoping that the pistol might have fallen nearby. The two shadows were coming closer, ever closer – had they seen him? They had. One of them pointed in his direction, and when they were almost upon him, his free hand made contact with the familiar cold metal. A resounding "click" echoed from the edge of the clearing as the two dark shapes drew nearer. They stopped at the sight of the young man leaning against the tree, rigidly holding a pistol, aiming right at them with an outstretched arm, while the other arm was wrapped protectively against his side.

"Is that you, Heero?" The gun was lowered at sound of kind and familiar voice. One of the shadows stepped closer, and Heero looked up to see the red cross on the helmet of the young medic he had met earlier that day on the transport. Quatre knelt down beside his comrade and proceeded to dig through the bag of supplies he carried. "Try not to move," the calm voice instructed further while he retrieved bandages and tape. Looking to the other soldier who stood nearby, Quatre raised his hand. "Trowa, would you?" The tall figure stepped into the light, his face partially hidden by the long bangs sweeping over his eyes. He reached out to take hold of the bandages while Quatre examined and cleaned Heero's wound. "This is going sting," the medic warned as he applied the iodine to the gash. To his surprise, Heero remained stoic, showing only tolerance for what must have been a searing discomfort. "It needs stitches," Quatre said out loud, half to himself and half to his patient. "I don't have anything to numb the area, so I'll have to give you morphine. It'll leave you pretty tired, so we'll just camp here toni-...."

"Do it, I don't need the drugs," came the reply, dark and toneless.

"What?" Quatre questioned, squinting through the darkness to read the face of the man he was trying to help.

"I don't need the drugs, just sew me up," Heero all but growled, "And do it fast – the enemy could have our location by now. Do either of you have our coordinates?"

Trowa spoke up for the first time, his perpetually calm voice showing no hint of the urgency of their situation. "The plane's navigation system was damaged when we took the hit over Luxembourg. We spiraled due east, but it's anyone's guess as to how far. I tried everything I could think of to get the radio working, but the communications system was gone along with everything else." The young man paused for a moment, watching Heero take a deep breath, set his jaw and close his eyes as Quatre commenced to work a needle through his skin. Trowa averted his eyes from the site, and scanned the clearing, looking for any more signs of life. "Everyone in and around the plane was dead. I'm beginning to think we were the only three survivors." Quatre shook his head in response to Trowa's comment, obviously saddened by the magnanimous loss of life and equally bewildered as to how just the three of them had been spared out of the seventy-nine on the transport plane.

"Done," Quatre said, sounding relieved. "Bandages, Trowa, please..."

Heero rose shakily to his feet, again clutching his side. Retrieving a compass from his belt, he held it up to the moonlight. "We should keep heading west. That will get us to back into France if we've crossed the enemy lines." The others nodded in compliance and turned to set off towards the west when a loud blast shook the ground and echoed through the trees. Guns were drawn as the three men stood in a circle, covering their position from all sides.

"Could they have found us already?" Quatre asked, his eyes moving rapidly across the dark terrain as the moon disappeared behind the clouds. Rustling noises caught their attention, and they turned towards a grove of trees. A lone figure came to a halt just outside of the woods, and scrambled to draw a gun after noticing the three men in the clearing.

The silent stand-off lasted for only a few seconds when Trowa called out, "Drop your weapon." There was no response, the dark figure stood still and the rifle stayed raised and aimed. "I said to drop your weapon. _Waffe herunterfallen lassen _," Trowa repeated in perfect German. Still no response, and the guns stayed drawn. Heero looked curiously at the shadow a few feet away from them, staring intently for quite some time. Finally he was sure.

"Duo?" he called out impatiently, putting his gun away. Trowa and Quatre looked on as Heero limped towards the mysterious shadow.

"I said, DUO!" Heero called out, now just a few feet away from the man as he lowered his gun.

"Oh, Heero, buddy!" Duo shouted. "I should've known that if anyone was going to survive that crash, it would've been you!"

"What happened back there?" Heero asked, motioning behind the braided soldier, back in the direction of the mangled transport plane.

"What was that?" Duo continued to yell. "I was packing some extra explosives and I dropped a land mine so now my ears are ringing. You'll have to speak up!"

"Figures..." Heero muttered without a backwards glance, leading the way towards the west.

They walked all night, stopping only briefly to allow Quatre to change Heero's bandages and check Duo's ears. "The eardrum is still in tact. The ringing will go away in a few more hours."

"WHAT?!"

"You'll be fine," Quatre stated.

"HUH?!"

"Keep walking," Heero pressed.

They stopped again just as the first light of the dawn was peaking through the trees. All four of them looked battered and exhausted, but Quatre was most concerned for the dark haired man resting against the nearby stream. Regardless of how much he had tried to mask it, pain welled more and more in his deep blue eyes as each hour wore on, and now he sat struggling to breathe while he leaned over to splash some cool water on his face.

"Heero," Quatre said quietly, removing his helmet and lowering himself to the edge of the water to do likewise. "I should really change those dressings again."

"I'm fine," was the brusque reply.

Quatre reached out and put his hand on his comrade's burning forehead. "Heero, you have a fever. I'm afraid an infection is setting in."

A gunshot resounded through the woods, and like lightening, the enemy was upon them and chaos ensued.

" Hier druben! Schnell! Schnell!"

"They found us," Trowa said, drawing his gun and firing at the trees. A group of men came into view – tan shirts, swastikas on their armbands and hats. Glancing around, Trowa noticed that Heero seemed to have disappeared.

"Hande aufheben!"

"Auf die knien!"

"Kneel! Now!"

In the confusion, it was difficult to distinguish the exact number of German troops that were now rushing toward them from the surrounding woods. Panic coursed through the young American soldiers as a slew of enemy voices barked orders at each of them in turn, raising their high-caliber rifles to accentuate their control.

Quatre's eyes traced the source and direction of the enemy's approach, turning back to find that his wounded comrade had somehow managed to slip away unnoticed. Any attempts to do the same would undoubtedly get him shot, he knew, so he placed a silent thought of prayer to his lips that Heero wouldn't attempt anything too foolish in his current state.

"_Hold it right there!_" The enemy screamed in their course foreign tongue, silencing the young medic's concerns for his comrade as several soldiers trained their weapons on him from the top of the bank. "_Don't move!_" He felt rough hands encircle his arms on both sides, jerking him forward so sharply that he lost his footing in the soft, muddy riverbed. He could only assume from their reaction and the tone of their voices, that they considered his movements to be some form of resistance, and soon resorted to dragging him forward, his knees scraping painfully across the rocky terrain.

Quatre winced as the two men threw him to the ground in the center of the clearing, his left shoulder connecting sharply with the splintered rock and rough dirt of the forest floor. Looking to the others, his eyes met with the well-disguised fear in their own, as they were forced to their knees before the half dozen Germans now leveling gun barrels in their faces. As he lifted himself from the dirt, the cold touch of steel embraced the base of his neck, and Quatre suddenly found himself praying to whatever God might be listening that their death would at least be quick.

* * * * *

The cold air seemed to attack him as soon as he had managed to lift himself safely out of the water, and he shivered unintentionally as he moved stiffly for his weapon. He could hear shouting in the distance and quickly ascertained that he had traveled downstream, a good 500 feet or so from where the others had been captured.

Slipping into the shadows of the thick undergrowth, he swallowed hard, forcing the pain and chill from his mind as he cut a path through the trees to attack the enemy from behind. He imagined that the forces they were now facing would amount to little more than a small reconnaissance party who had either happened on the crash site by chance, or been routinely scouting out the area for its strategic value. Regardless of the reason, though, he knew all too well what fate the others would meet if he didn't do something.

Reaching the crest of a small ridge along the riverside, he worked his way back to where they had encountered the enemy troops, slowing his pace as the sound of footsteps crunched through the brush just in front of him. Instinctively, his fingers pulled the standard issued army knife from his right boot, twisting the darkened blade in his grip, as he stealthily closed in on the unsuspecting soldier from behind. The rifle fell from the German's loose grasp as Heero's blade severed his throat in an unimaginably swift motion, spraying the foliage in a crimson shower before he could even utter a sound. All struggle abruptly left the boy's body and he slumped forward, Heero quick to lower the dead soldier to the ground at his feet, making certain that the noise did not alert the others laying a short distance beyond. Rummaging through whatever sparse belongings he could find on the body, Heero kept his eyes on the surrounding trees, scouring the area for the slightest sign of movement.

Adrenaline was surging wildly through his veins, the strong scent of danger flooding his senses with fear and exhilaration as he removed a folded slip of paper from the soldier's breast pocket. Smeared with splotches of dirt and fresh blood, the words on the map were decidedly difficult to decipher, as were the other encrypted transmissions which would have to be broken by the Allied forces once they reached Luxembourg.

Turning his attention back to the map now laying on the ground, his eyes settled on the decisive black scrawling along the German border, as well as those suggested within the borders of their target site. Each bold hand-drawn symbol was easily recognizable to Heero as he set to the task of memorizing the locations presently under enemy control; unit types and sizes, noteworthy military branches and heavy artillery, even possible attack plans. He swallowed thickly as he traced their approximate location to somewhere just beyond the enemy lines. It was the last thing he saw before the German soldiers set upon him from behind…

* * * * *

Quatre struggled to prevent anyone from noticing the persistent tremble that seemed to be coursing through his limbs, listening intently to the whispers of the German soldiers standing just behind him. To his surprise, the bullet he had long expected to take his life still hadn't come, and he now saw other American prisoners being escorted into the clearing, obviously members of the transport unit who somehow survived the crash, still numbering only three in all.

He cringed inwardly as he examined the three young men from across the clearing, all of whom had sustained extensive injuries from both the crash, and at the hands of the enemy who had ambushed them. Two of the younger boys had jet-black hair, and were obviously of Chinese descent; the other was slightly older, with deep auburn hair that peeked out from beneath the excessive layers of blood and dirt. One of the Chinese boys was virtually being half-dragged, half-carried by the other, his wounds far more severe than the two soldiers beside him, who were still able to walk under their own power.

Quatre felt his heart lurch painfully inside the confines of his chest as he watched the three stumble into view, coerced into movement by several well-placed jabs from behind. The attempt to rise to his feet was instantly rewarded, as the butt of an assault rifle struck the back of his knees, and he once again found himself on the receiving end of a gun barrel, his pain chased away by the sudden fear of death. Duo and Trowa watched helplessly, not wanting to add fuel to the fire, as a particularly burly looking German soldier stepped forward. He scrutinized each of them for several minutes, before examining the dog tags around their necks, taking a particular interest in the fair-haired boy at the forefront of everyone's attention.

"You are American doctor." The man said sharply, his accent thick, despite the fact that he was speaking in English. Quatre did his best to remain stoic and expressionless as the man approached his side, this time speaking to him in his native tongue.

"_Sprechen sie Deutsch?_" He questioned, calmly, studying the boy for some sort of reaction. Quatre responded with only a slight shake of his head, knowing little else of the German language other than the question the man had just asked him.

"_What about your friends here? Shall I ask them?_" He continued in his native tongue as Quatre mentally sorted through his limited German vocabulary, finding that he only understood the word "freund," for friend.

"And you - _Und ihnen?_" He asked, stepping over to where Duo and Trowa sat complacent. "_Can you understand me, American? Or must I make your friend here bleed to loosen your tongue?_"

Trowa stiffened at the clear intent shining in the German officer's dark eyes, as several of his men began to laugh. "I understand. Ich verstehen." Trowa stated, icily, his eyes narrowing on their stout interrogator with borderline venom.

"_Then perhaps we should see how well you bleed instead…_"

A flurry of commotion diverted the soldiers' attention, as well as that of their six prisoners, who also fought to catch a glimpse of what was going on.

Quatre gasped audibly as his eyes were met with the visage of the mysterious boy he had stitched up after the crash being pulled roughly into the fray of soldiers. The left side of his face was coated in a thin sheen of crimson, the blood still flowing in fresh trails from the gash above his eye which was just barely visible beneath his disheveled locks. His hands were bound together in front of him, and his captors threw him to his knees before the commanding officer, as though their prisoner were some sort of sacrificial offering or trophy. One of the men who had brought him in began whispering to the interrogator, as the other shoved Heero forward, planting his face into the ground.

"_He put up some resistance…_" The young soldier grinned, kicking his prisoner squarely in the side. Heero's eyes closed and he winced, but refused to give the enemy the satisfaction of crying out in pain.

Trowa could barely make out the snippets of dialogue passing between the other two men, but knew that it had something to do with a German convoy, sensitive intelligence reports, and a small country located just to the South. He figured that whatever it was they were discussing, though, Heero would suffer greatly for happening upon that information, even if he had no idea what it is he had or hadn't actually seen. Confirmation to that came only seconds later as two of their captors picked up the limp and bleeding Heero, while the burly German in command coyly stepped up to face the defiant young soldier.

"_How much did you see?_" He inquired tersely, almost smiling in delight at the fact that Heero refused to answer.

With a subtle nod of prompting from their leader, one of the two soldiers who had captured him stepped forward while the other held him, landing a vicious blow to Heero's already wounded side with the butt of his gun. Duo and Trowa both averted their gaze, not wishing to encourage any further abuses with their show of concern, as Heero gritted his teeth and collapsed to the ground. Quatre, however, took advantage of the brief distraction to jump to his feet, intent on helping his felled comrade, in fear that the soldiers would beat him to death if he didn't intervene.

A modest pool of blood had already started to form below him by the time Quatre could reach his side, the thick ropes making it impossible to form any kind of seal against the unrelenting flow. The German commander looked down in mild amusement at the huddled figures at his feet, smiling sadistically as the order to move out fell from his lips. First interrogations at the base camp, and then if they survived, on to the nearest prison camp.

Quatre managed to move the bindings aside after several minutes of struggling, only to find that all the neatly sewn stitches had been torn in Heero's efforts of resistance. The medic closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, not daring to wonder if their situation could possibly be worse.

"Auf! Up! Up!" One of the Germans nudged Quatre with the tip of a rifle, motioning that they were expected to get up and start walking. Trowa and Duo moved to where Heero lay and bent down, each taking one of his arms as the company began to move. The prisoners walked in silence and Trowa listened intently to the conversations of his captors.

"…_wounded ones will slow us down. Why don't we just shoot them now!" _

_"They might have information that we need. The last telegram from Berlin was not good news; Normandy is lost. We need all enemy intelligence that we can get. We can beat it out of them when we reach the camp."_

Trowa let out a long sigh. They would be kept alive, for now. He looked over to the man he was helping to carry. Heero's head lolled from side to side with each step they took, yet his eyes were open, and they met Trowa's for an instant. "He's looking for a way out of this," Trowa thought to himself. "Aren't we all?"

* * * * *

The commander threw his water canteen at the head of the nearest officer and set off on another tirade of German expletives. "What's the problem, Trowa?" Quatre whispered, keeping one eye warily on the men nearest to the fire. They had stopped for the night and the officers had met to go over their location when all the shouting started.

"We're lost," Trowa stated, a hint of disbelief permeating his voice. "They can't find our position on any of their maps, and no one seems to have a compass." A snort and even a bit of a chuckle came from the braided man sitting across from them.

"What do you know about this, Duo?" Quatre asked, looking up from the strips of cotton he was tearing from his shirt to use as bandages for Heero and the other wounded soldiers.

"Let's just say that I didn't grow up on the streets of New York without learning a few tricks from the pick pockets."

"You didn't!" Quatre asked, wide-eyed. "But when did you get the chance to…?"

"A master never shares his secrets," Duo chided, smiling triumphantly. Each time he'd had the opportunity throughout the day, he'd walked beside a different one of his captors. With all of the commotion that came with cutting a path through the forest, it hadn't been much effort to lift compasses, knives and even bullets that were hanging loosely on utility belts. Before they were the wiser, the Germans had become hopelessly lost in the thick woods of southern Europe.

"So, you'd rather have us die wandering around out here then?" a harsh voice hissed from behind them. One of the other prisoners that been brought to the last camp had been listening to their whole conversation.

"I'd rather die out here than in some Nazi work camp, wouldn't you?" Duo asked, regarding the man curiously. The strange soldier noticed the way that Duo was looking at him and became even more rigid, if that were possible.

"My name is Wufei Chang. And yes, I was born in America," he spat, obviously self-conscious about his Asian appearance. Everyone he had ever been stationed with had questioned his loyalties because of the other enemies that came from across the Pacific and had started off the war with the vicious Pearl Harbor bombing. "We are not Japanese. My family came from China. And I have just as much to fight for as you do." Wufei cast a glance downward at the sleeping man that Quatre was tending to. "Yuy – now that's Japanese if I ever heard it. Have you asked him what HE'S doing here? Spying maybe?"

Duo glared at the Chinamen, a streak of anger coursing through him. "I've worked with him before. There's no question that he's on our side," he growled through clenched teeth. "How dare you…."

"Be quiet! Sich beruhigen!" Their guard shouted holding out his rifle threateningly. The prisoners lapsed into silence and stared at the ground, the only noise was that of ripping material as Quatre continued to make bandages.

Several hours had passed and the camp settled down for the night, the German commander having given up on finding their location. Duo, resting against a rock, opened one of his eyes slightly to take in the scene. Eleven men slept by the fire, and one man guarded them now – and he was looking pretty drowsy… Quatre was hunched over his patients, their captors had been merciful enough to untie his hands so that he could see to the wounded. One of the men, Duo had learned, was the badly injured brother of that obnoxious Wufei guy; the red-head was named Marcus – he seemed to be sleeping, and Trowa was scribbling something in a little notebook while he held it up to the moonlight in a vain attempt to see the pages. They could run now, but would they really get anywhere? And there was no way that Heero or Wufei's brother were going to be able to walk, let alone run. And who was to say what the Germans would do to the rest of the prisoners if they found one had escaped – Duo couldn't swallow the thought of the other guys getting shot over something he had done. Apparently, Marcus hadn't taken much of anything into consideration, because moments later, he stood up and started at a mad dash through the woods. Their guard jumped up, surprised, in order to give chase. He didn't have to go far, as Marcus tripped over a stump just a few feet away and fell to the ground. He scrambled to his feet, casting a terrified glance over his shoulder, but it was too late. The German guard raised his rifle, and a loud crack resonated through the trees. One shot and it was all over; Marcus lie dead, a pool of dark red seeping out of the back of his head. With that, the braided soldier closed his eyes and tried to make himself as comfortable as he could. "Time to think of Plan B," he told himself as the exhaustion overtook him.

* * * * *

"Stop right there!" A woman's voice shouted, snapping Duo from his slumber. He awoke, squinting in the hazy pre-dawn light, to find the camp surrounded by people wearing blue uniforms that he didn't recognize. They seemed to be pointing their weapons at the Germans, Duo noted, not to mention the fact that they outnumbered the enemy two to one. "Please be on our side," he begged in his mind.

"You have entered neutral territory," the woman continued, "You will discard your weapons and line up to be escorted to the border."

"I'll take neutral," Duo thought, and watched as the enemy troops, taken by surprise, raised their arms in a show of submission.

The German commander stepped forward, addressing the woman in broken English. "We go, but the prisoners are ours. They come, too."

A blue-clad soldier walked past where Duo and his comrades sat, and made his way towards the woman who seemed to be in charge.

"Miss Sally, two of the prisoners appear to be badly injured, and we found one shot just right outside the camp."

Sally looked towards the group of disheveled men sitting a few yards away, and then glared disapprovingly at the commander. "Those prisoners are now under sanctuary in the Sanq Kingdom. You will leave, and you will leave without them." The three men that stood behind her aimed their guns at the commander to emphasize their lady's point.

The commander looked as if he intended to argue at first, but then seemed to think better of it, and let himself be led out of the clearing, his troops falling in behind him flanked by the guards of the Sanq Kingdom.

Sally tossed a brown braid over her shoulder and turned in the direction of the prisoners.

Duo, Trowa, Quatre and Wufei stood up in order to meet the woman who had become their liberator. "My name is Sally Po," she said, addressing them kindly. "And you are now in the Sanq Kingdom. We are not involved in the war, so you are free and safe within our borders. It looks like you all could do with some food and a good night's sleep. How are those two doing?" She asked, pointing to where Heero and Wufei's brother, Li, lay pale and unconscious.

Quatre stepped forward. "Their wounds are very serious. They need a hospital." Sally looked at him doubtfully. "At least a bed and a warm room – clean water and bandages, some medicine and room for me to work."

"That we can do," Sally promised, looking the two over for herself. "I'm a doctor as well, and there isn't much we can do for them right here. Let's move them out!" she ordered to the men behind her. The Sanq guards placed Heero and Li on stretchers and carried them carefully through the woods. After an hour of walking, they were met with the welcome site of transport vehicles. Duo nearly stopped in his tracks when he caught a glimpse of a girl walking around the side of one of the trucks. She wore a simple yet elegant gray suit with a slim skirt that flared out at mid-calf, and a jacket buttoned around her tiny waist. A waterfall of honey blonde hair cascaded down her back, held tightly in a pale blue silk ribbon. Standing next to the army green trucks, she looked beautiful… and completely out of place.

"Miss Relena?" Sally asked, her tone one of mixed shock and disapproval. "What on earth are you doing out here! You should never be this close to the border!"

"I was told that Nazi troops had entered the Sanq Kingdom. My brother knows better than that."

"It wasn't Milliardo, or 'Zechs' as he's calling himself these days," Sally replied, walking up to the young woman. "It was just a recon party that got lost. They're on their way out, but these fellows here are Americans – they were prisoners, and two of them aren't in the best of shape."

Relena walked towards the haggard group of men standing behind Sally. Pity shone in her eyes as she looked them over. "My name is Relena Peacecraft, and I am sovereign of this nation. You can rest here as long as you like under my protection." The four men nodded gratefully as Sally motioned for them to step up into the transport trucks. Duo looked back to see Relena lower herself to the ground beside where the guards had set the stretchers down until they made room in the trucks. The girl rested a hand on Heero's forehead, which made him stir. She cradled his head in her arms, gently pushing back his blood and sweat-dampened locks. Relena searched his features, noting that he looked unlike any man she had ever seen before. Though smudged with dirt and blood, his face was handsome and strong, despite a ghostly pallor which left his skin looking nearly gray. "Oh…" Relena let out a gasp as she saw an open gash on one of his arms. She took the starched white handkerchief out of her jacket pocket and pressed it over the wound, hoping it would stop the flow of blood. Looking around her for some sort of bandage, she found nothing until she pulled the blue ribbon from her hair and tied it around Heero's forearm.

"We're ready to load him, Your Highness," one of the guards said politely. Men moved to either end of the stretcher when Relena saw the young soldier's eyes begin to flutter.

"He's waking up…" A sweet voice resonated in his ears, and he could swear that he had caught the scent of roses. All he could feel was a dull ache in his side, radiating through his body so entirely to the point where he wouldn't dare endeavor to try and move, but it seemed to ebb away at the new sensation of the softest touch on his forehead – so comforting, that touch. Heero struggled to force his eyelids open, the light of the morning sun blinding him at first. But then her face came into focus, smiling kindly at him as her long blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders and swirled in the breeze.

The sun shone, making a halo of light behind her head, and Heero wondered for an instant if he had in fact died, and the being above him was one of the angels that all his fellow soldiers were always asking to watch over them. He felt it again, her hand sweeping across his forehead.

"Rest now," she whispered. "You're safe."


	2. Darkness and Light

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to us, we just like to, um, play with them *evil grins*

**"What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us;   
what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal."   
-_Albert Pike_**

ACROSS ENEMY LINES

Chapter 2 - Darkness and Light

The transport vehicle hiccupped over the uneven terrain toward the private estate of the young sovereign who had become their protector. Its occupants noticed little of the passing scenery as they sped along the bumpy country roads; their attention was fully turned to doing what they could for the two young men who were still clinging to life.

Against the far wall, Quatre and Sally worked diligently to calm the obviously distressed Li, who had regained consciousness only moments after being loaded onto the truck. Sally had set to the task of checking over the boy's wounds, as Quatre, with some help from Trowa, did his best to keep Li from thrashing around on the stretcher. Li's skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and Sally shook her head as she examined the deep lacerations covering both of his legs. She could see nothing to be hopeful about as she removed one of Quatre's makeshift bandages, feeling the fresh surge of blood pulse between her fingers. Blood loss aside, it was quite clear that the young soldier was slipping further and further into a state of shock, the seriousness of his situation only compounded by the evidence of infection surrounding the wounds. Even if she could replace what blood volume had been lost, her hopes of reconstructing what remained of the boy's legs were overshadowed with doubt. She spared a fleeting glance to where the other black-haired soldier sat, paling with every cry that fell from his brother's lips. She searched for a single comforting word for the young man who had refused to leave his brother's side, but found herself at a loss for such things as she re-wrapped the wounds.

Beside them, Sally could hear the other injured soldier beginning to stir, having been jostled awake as the truck lurched forward, then dropped back, passing over a particularly rocky patch of road in the process. Pain was etched deeply into his features, and even in his semi-conscious state, his arm was still wrapped tightly around his midsection. Sweat mingled with the remnants of dried blood on his face and neck, turning it a faint scarlet hue, which deeply contrasted the paleness of his skin. 

Having done what she could for Li, she made her way over to Heero, where the cheerful soldier with the long chestnut braid sat talking to his wounded friend. It was apparent to Sally that Heero was beyond comprehending anything his comrade was saying, but she gave Duo a reassuring smile for his efforts, anyway. 

"How's he doing?" She asked as she knelt down, capturing Heero's wrist with the tips of her fingers, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse fall into far too fast a rhythm. 

"Who? Mr. Perfect Soldier here?" Duo replied with a chuckle. "Knowing him, he'll probably get all worked up that you guys found us, and start spouting out a bunch of stuff about marching back out to the woods to fight the enemy."

Duo averted his gaze as Sally peeled back the layers of blood-soaked bandages to view the gash in Heero's side, and sighed her relief to see that for the most part, it had stopped bleeding. Resting her hand against his forehead, she hadn't realized that a frown had inadvertently reached her features, and was surprised when Duo's tone turned more serious.

"He is gonna be all right, isn't he?" He asked, with an expression of concern.

"Well, it looks like he's…" Sally had started to say, her mind working through the possibilities of both blood loss and the cause for his fever, when she was met with two wide violet eyes that seemed to eager to hear only one thing. "He's going to be just fine." She answered, firmly, smiling up at the young soldier until she could almost believe it herself. 

'The sooner we reach Peacecraft Manor, the better.' She thought.

* * * * *

It was uncharacteristically cool for a mid-summer morning as the sun stretched lazily across the sky, chasing the last of night's shadows away. She had received the summons a mere nightfall ago; her destination a small military installation near Koblenz, rumored to be little more than a dank, underground bunker along the Belgian border. They had driven through the night, twisting aimlessly through the back roads of Europe's dense forests, until no doubt remained that her driver had become hopelessly lost. Yet there, inconspicuously carved into the side of a small embankment, was the base; and outside it, the flurry of young German troops quickly set her back at ease.

Apparently, the sight of the black Mercedes she was traveling in caught the soldiers' attention, for before it had even come to a complete stop; the door was wrenched open, allowing her to step out.

"Heil Hitler!" The young soldier greeted enthusiastically, saluting the stern young woman with an outstretched arm.

"Heil Hitler…" She replied, monotonously, the cold edge to her voice causing the young man to move back a step.

She said nothing else as the soldiers cleared a path to the entrance; most averted their gaze as she pushed passed them.

The young woman was well dressed, bearing the mark of distinction as a member of the notorious Gestapo, or Secret State Police. Her skin was pale, her lips the color of blood, and her eyes held in their depths a cold and calculated detachment that ensured anyone who met her that she had well earned her rank. Her long, mahogany locks were tied back into two neatly kept buns and cradled at her neckline by the high collar of her midnight blue coat. There was determination in her stride as she entered the compound, finding the reason for her summons as soon as she crossed the threshold of the bunker's front entrance.

"Mister Treize…"

"You're looking well, Lady." The young Aristocrat replied, turning to face her. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he spoke, an obvious attempt to charm the younger female officer with his charisma and the sheer elegance of his words. "Tell me…How long has it been?"

"Far too many days, sir." Came her ever stoic, and nearly automatic reply, though the faint glint of emotion flashing in her eyes did not go unnoticed, earning her a smile of a far more genuine nature from the handsome man across from her. With a swift motion, he gestured for his subordinates to depart before waving his guest closer to his side.

"So tell me, Lady Une, what news have you from Berlin?"

"Aircraft and munitions output has increased significantly," She reported quickly, a touch of hesitation peeking through her words. "But with the recent Allied invasion in Normandy, there is talk about the necessity for ensuring our strategic objectives."

"Our Fuhrer is flying in the face of all logic, my dear Lady. I'm afraid that his actions as of late have made him far too many enemies within his own ranks. His plans to push forward with this losing battle are ideas born out of desperation. The time has come for us to focus on our own objectives. The need to take matters into our own hands has become our greatest certainty in this war."

"I understand, sir," she replied with a slight nod. "Our carefully placed operatives have given us very little to go on." Une stated, coldly. "Furthermore, they failed to warn us of the Normandy attack. However, we have obtained certain information that could prove quite useful to us. It would seem that Colonel Bundt of Luxembourg has received correspondence from that bothersome diplomat Darlian of the Sanq Kingdom. In this letter, there is vague mention of a weapon. One with the potential to overthrow Hitler and the Reich."

"I see…" Treize replied, calmly, almost as though he had expected such news, though in truth in came as quite a shock. "What type of weapon?" _"That's an odd piece of information," _he thought to himself. _"A great weapon in a pacifist nation?"_

"I'm afraid that we couldn't ascertain any specific data from Darlian's letter." She answered quietly. "But the Sanq Kingdom is one of the more prosperous and problematic of Germany's unoccupied neighbors. Their resources could be quite valuable in aiding our soldiers should we choose to launch an attack against them. It is widely known throughout the Reich that the sovereign of that nation has provided aid and sanctuary to the Allies on a number of occasions. It would be a shame for a pacifist nation such as theirs to be caught in the crossfire of this war. Under our control, we could offer its citizens our protection." 

"Such offers would be refused, unless proposed under the correct circumstances." Treize stated, firmly, his thoughts turning to the words of promise spoken nearly five years before. A promise made to the young fighter pilot that had made such a difference in the tide of the war - his oath to spare the Sanq Kingdom, and the young princess who upheld its gentle, peaceful ways. "Are you certain that these reports from Colonel Bundt are well-founded?"

He looked up just in time to catch the flash of surprise cross her features, before her stony façade fell into place once again. She was taken aback by his words, and he thought it best to add logic to his reasoning, as she stood fumbling for a response.

"I've known Bundt for a number of years, Lady Une. He is not above creating such lies in order to divert attention from himself. If the right people believed such accusations, it would certainly win him favor in the eyes of the Führer."

"But if he is telling the truth, obtaining such a weapon would place the power to lead Germany to victory in our hands," she protested.

"We don't need to furnish anyone with a reason to attack the Sanq Kingdom…fabricating just cause is, as you know, well within your means." He sighed softly. "Do as you see fit…I place Germany's future in your hands."

* * * * *

"Woman, is that the best you can do?" Wufei growled, casting a fierce glare in the direction of the room where Sally was tending to his brother, watching as one of her assistants scurried out to search for gauze. He had refused to leave Li since they had arrived at the Peacecraft Manor, choosing instead to pace the length of the infirmary for the last several hours. Though he had given Li a pint of blood through a transfusion, Wufei still rejected any food, water or medical care for himself until he had word of his older brother's condition.

Finally the door to Li's room opened and she walked out slowly, her white coat stained with crimson. He fought the urge to look away, feeling his stomach churn at the sight of all the blood, and so he stared passed her, focusing on the door. The young doctor removed her coat, and moved forward to address the seemingly hostile black-haired man standing before her. He looked too young to be a soldier, she thought to herself. He seemed as though he were little more than a child himself. 

"Wufei – that's your name, right?" Sally asked, trying to keep her voice steady, knowing that the news she was about to deliver might very well send him into a rage – or worse. He stood still and rigid, not answering her, his silence commanding her to continue. Sally gathered her nerves and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry…" She began and felt her face fall after just two words. She didn't have the chance to say anything else, all she could do was watch helplessly as Wufei fell to his knees and let out a guttural cry of pain, like a wounded animal. He stayed there, fists clenched at his side, body shaking, staring at the polished tile floor for a few moments before he pushed himself back to his feet.

"NO!" He yelled, shaking his head, repeating the word silently over and over before looking Sally in the eye. "I don't believe you!" he shouted, racing passed her and careening through the doors to the room she had just left. Sally followed in silence, carefully catching hold of one of the still swinging doors and slipping inside. There she watched him. He had stopped a few feet away from the bed, fixated on the figure with a blood-splotched white sheet draped over it. No signs of life were evident; it made no movement – no sound. Their ears were only met with the stillness and deafening silence that accompanies the departure from life. 

The daylight was fading, casting the last golden rays through the window and across the bed. Wufei walked slowly to where his brother's body lay, and gently gathered back the sheet so that he could see Li's face. They had washed away the blood and dirt, Wufei noted, and they had closed his dead brother's eyes and folded his arms, yet he did not look peaceful. "Brother…" Wufei whispered, noticing the ashen hue of Li's skin – the pallor of death, yet still somehow willing him to wake. "It can't end like this! It won't!" he screamed, choking back tears. Sally felt her own heart break for him as he continued to stand silently over the bed. 

After quite some time, his posture seemed to relax, and he reached out to replace the sheet, but stopped before covering the dead young man's face. "I will avenge you, brother," Wufei vowed, laying a hand on Li's cold cheek. "And then you will be at peace."

* * *

"My compliments to the chef!" Duo Maxwell mumbled between bites of roasted chicken and potatoes, which he was shoveling into his mouth at an astounding rate.

Relena, raising an eyebrow as she watched her gregarious guest, wasn't sure whether or not to be amused or horrified, but decided on amused as Duo thanked her for the thousandth time. 

"I haven't eaten in DAYS!" he exclaimed, reaching for another helping of potatoes and then passing them on to Trowa and Quatre. The bruised and battered men that Sally had found in the forest were cleaned up and Relena's butler had found them all some fresh clothes, but right now she could tell that what they really needed was some sleep. 

"You look exhausted," Relena said, casting a glance at the blonde medic who seemed as though he were ready to nod off face first into his plate of food. "Why don't you go and rest, and I'll have Peygan bring dinner up to your room," she offered. "All of you." 

The three men slowly rose from the table to follow Relena, Duo reaching back for a chicken leg before they began the ascent to their sleeping quarters. "One for the road," he smiled, chewing gleefully as they walked towards the stairs. Relena saw Duo and Trowa to their rooms while Quatre went to look in on Heero, who had been placed in a room just down the hall.

"I really should stay with Heero in case there's a problem," Quatre said, stifling a yawn. "And I should check on Li also…" 

"Sally's taking care of him. She'll do her best, I know."

Quatre nodded and walked towards his room. "Just let me get a blanket and I'll be down the hall."

Relena spoke up without hesitation. "You need your rest, I'll stay with him. Heero is his name?" Quatre answered again with a nod and Relena looked at him assuredly. "If he needs you, I'll come and get you right away. Please try to sleep."

"Thank you, Miss Relena," Quatre smiled, fighting to keep his eyes open. "Thank you and your people for all you've done for us today."

"This war is a dreadful thing," she said quietly, bowing her head. "We must do what we can, for each other."

"Yes…" A moment of silence passed between them, Quatre quietly regarding the young woman standing across from him. There seemed to be something about her that reached far beyond her tender age, an inner strength that was evident in her blue-green eyes to anyone who cared to look for it. "Goodnight then, Miss Relena."

"Goodnight," she smiled, and turned to make her way back down the corridor, stopping off at the guest wing's library to find a book to help her pass the night.

* * * * *

She opened the door slowly, not wanting to wake him. Goodness knows he needed his rest, they all did. Standing at the doorway, she could hear the feverish wheeze of his breathing and the rustling of the sheets as he thrashed from side to side. Tiptoeing towards his bed, she stopped to look at the young man whom she had held in her arms earlier that day, remembering his eyes – they were so deep, blue like the stormy sea, as if threatening to drown her if she stared into them for too long. And so filled with pain. It saddened her as much as it thrilled her to think of them. 

He had said nothing to her when he woke, but merely reached out for her hand, perhaps to see if she were more than a figment of his delusional state. "Rest now," she had said to him, and Relena whispered it again out loud now, almost as though it was her prayer for him.

She reached out, placing a hand on his burning forehead. 'Much too hot,' she thought to herself, and debated whether or not to run right back down the hallway and fetch that poor exhausted medic who had probably fallen asleep by now. Instead, she filled a basin with some cool water, and dabbed it onto his face. This seemed to settle him, and so she stayed by his side, filling and refilling the basin again and again. After a long while, Heero's forehead began to feel a great deal cooler, so Relena retreated to a nearby armchair. She curled up and began to open her book, but found that she could not tear herself away from the sleeping man before her. She studied him, her eyes moving from the bandages on his arms, to the bruises covering his shoulders and face, to the thick brown locks of hair that hung loosely over his forehead. Relena had no idea how many hours had passed – how long she sat there mesmerized by steady rise and fall of his chest and the way his lips parted while he slumbered. But the moon was still high and full in the night sky when her own heavy eyelids closed, plunging her into a dreamless sleep. 

She awoke with a start, blinking to get her surroundings into focus as she noticed the dawn's first light creeping into the room. Panicked that something might have happened to Heero while she slept, Relena rushed to his side only to find him still breathing steadily, and fast asleep – or so it seemed. A smile of relief overtook her features as she lay her hand on his forehead, finding it as cool as her own. The fever had broken. 

She watched him again, for a long time, and then reluctantly turned to go back to her chair, letting her fingers brush against the soft cotton bed sheet. Very suddenly a strong hand clamped down around her wrist. She whirled around with a gasp, again coming face to face with him, blue eyes sparkling in the pink morning light, so blue…

"Where am I?" he demanded, snapping her out of the trance. His voice was hoarse and strained, but commanding nonetheless as he struggled up into a sitting position. "I said, where am I!" Relena felt a stab of fear run through her, and she looked down at his hand encircling her wrist painfully, and then up to his eyes again, blazing ferociously. She tried to pull away, but he held fast. Fighting the urge to cry out, she instead took a deep breath and answered his question.

"You… You are in the Sanq Kingdom, on the borders of France and Germany," she answered shakily, but he did not let go. "We have no stake in the war, you're safe here," she explained as calmly as she could, relief flooding through her as recognition glimmered in his eyes and he released his vice-like grip. She moved to the bedside table to pour him a glass of water, which he accepted gratefully, drinking hastily as she continued to speak. "My name is Relena Peacecraft, and I am the princess of this country. I am bound by the oath I took when I became ruler to uphold my father's philosophies of pacifism. I will not battle with armies, but I do what I can for those who are fighting against the Reich." She refilled his glass, and watched his shaking hands as he fumbled, trying to bring it to his lips. The effort it had taken to hold onto her wrist just a few minutes ago seemed to have sapped what little energy he had. Looking at him tenderly, she seated herself on the edge of the bed and leaned in, covering his hand with hers and helping him to drink.

Heero watched the girl warily – he had known very little in the way of human kindness during his life, and couldn't help but be suspicious of it in any form. His eyes didn't leave her for a second, and he kept telling himself that it was because he couldn't trust her and had nothing to do with the fact that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His angel at the edge of the woods; now he remembered… waking up ever so briefly… Even still, how could he be sure she was an ally? 

"Are you hungry?" She asked, interrupting his thoughts by pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes for him. He noticed a small smile played on her lips as she did so.

"Why is a princess taking care of me? Don't you have servants for that?" He asked skeptically, the intense look on his face never softening.

Relena seemed undaunted by the questions, and continued to tend to him while she spoke. "The house staff is very small," she explained while checking his bandages. "Just because we haven't been occupied doesn't mean that the war hasn't affected us. We have a lot of people to feed, medical supplies are difficult to come by – what money is left in the treasury goes to helping the refugees who have made it safely within our borders. The Reich has tried to bleed us dry and wants us to beg for their help. But I will not!" She said defiantly, the intensity of her gaze rivaling his own. "We can manage. They will NOT control us."

Heero still was not satisfied and continued unwavering in his interrogation. "How did you avoid an invasion?" He questioned stiffly.

Her whole demeanor changed in a single instant, and Heero was taken aback at how quite suddenly she looked pale and weak, fragile and so very sad. She stopped what she had been doing, as if the thought of it all made her body go limp. "My brother," Relena all but whispered, her head bowed. "My…"

A sharp knock at the door stopped her in mid-sentence, and both of the room's occupants looked up to find Peygan, with Duo, Trowa and Quatre standing sullenly behind him. "Excuse me, Miss Relena," the elderly butler said politely, bowing his head. "But I have some rather sad news from Miss Sally. It seems that the other young man who was badly injured expired last evening."

Relena slowly raised herself from her perch on the edge of Heero's bed and glanced at her guests, genuine pity in her eyes. "I'm so very sorry," she said, looking at each one of them in turn. Duo was the first to speak.

"We only just met him on the transport – we were all just leftovers from units that got demolished during the landing at Normandy. But still…"

"His brother – the other boy is his brother, correct?" Relena asked, and watched as they all nodded in affirmation. "Please, one of you – ask him what we can do to help with proper funeral arrangements. We shall do everything possible to be of assistance."

"I'll go," Trowa offered, and turned to find his way to the infirmary room where Wufei sat, holding a vigil and praying over his older brother's lifeless body. As Trowa departed, Relena noticed that the fair-haired medic looked absolutely miserable. She searched her thoughts, trying to remember his name.

"Quatre? I…" She started towards him, but the young man only shook his head and stared at the floor. A tremble worked its way through his body.

"If only I'd been able to do more. I could have… maybe if I had…"

"You can't blame yourself," Heero spoke up from the bed across the room, in a tone that forced the blonde man to look up and meet his gaze.

"Yeah, we know you did what you could, buddy," Duo added, resting a hand on Quatre's shoulder. The medic looked unconvinced. 

"It's just that… it wasn't enough…" Quatre sighed, and his voice trailed off as he walked with his shoulders slumped past Peygan and Relena to check on his remaining patient.

"I'll see that breakfast is brought up to you," Relena said cheerlessly, closing the door behind her as if trying to seal in the somber air. Peygan nodded and began to make his way to the kitchen, with Duo following in close pursuit.

* * * * *

Duo returned alone, arms laden with plates of toast, eggs and sausages – half of which he had devoured on the way up. He found his comrades so deep in conversation that they barely noticed his entrance. Trowa had pulled a chair up to the bed, while Quatre leaned in from beside Heero, who had been propped up with a couple of pillows. Their voices were hushed, so Duo moved closer to hear the words passing between his fellow soldiers.

"…her brother, but she didn't go into detail," Heero offered, shifting his gaze from Quatre to Trowa.

"I don't understand how such a small kingdom could have slipped through the Reich's fingers," Trowa added, pushing his long bangs aside, allowing him to stare more intently as his comrades.

"So her brother, you said, Heero?" Quatre asked, turning his attention back to the still battered looking man in the bed.

"Yeah, I take it that he must be…"

"… in the high ranks of the SS. He calls himself Zechs Merquise."

All eyes turned to Duo. "Hey," he said, setting down the plates on a nearby table. "You learn a lot talking to the folks in the kitchen." He took their silence as an invitation to continue, but not before sitting down and helping himself to a few more bites of food.

"Well, according to Peygan and the cook, this guy's real name was Milliardo Peacecraft – heck, I'd change it, too if I was stuck with that kind of…"

"Duo, the point?" Heero all but hissed.

"Anyway," Duo said, casting a bitter glance in Heero's general direction before continuing, "About ten years ago, he and their father had some kind of falling out, and the old king disinherited him, so he left the country. A couple years later, Germany starts invasions all over the place, and in this region, a lord or earl or something named Treize Kushranada was in charge. Don't you know that Milliardo resurfaces as this Zechs guy working under Treize, and talks him into sparing the Sanq."

"Zechs Merquise… now where have I heard that?" Trowa wondered out loud, wracking his brain for the associations of the name.

"'The Lightening Count,'" Heero said dryly, earning bewildered looks from the others. "He's Germany's best fighter pilot."

End Chapter 2

That was kind of a miserable place to stop, and just because we love you, we've included a little preview of the next chapter.

**PREVIEW**

"Can you move?" he asked, wondering just why she had made no attempt to get up. Had she been hurt?

She looked up at him, but gave no response. His voice sounded so far away; her ears were still ringing from the loudness of the explosions. She could feel the throbbing ache in her bruised left shoulder, and she slowly brought her right hand up to the back of her head, expecting to feel a flow of blood, but instead found it only swollen and tender to the touch.

"I, uh…" she faltered as he helped her to sit up. "What _was _that?" Relena asked dazedly. She knew the answer, but she just didn't want to believe it.

"It was a bombing raid," Heero stated matter-of-factly, taking her hand as she attempted to steady herself on her own two feet.

"No…" she said quietly, still holding onto the back of her aching head. "No, it can't be… Milliardo - he wouldn't."

- To be continued…

Thanks again for reading! We so appreciated all of your feedback from the last chapter, and we hope this one was worth waiting for.

Love to All! - Stella and Luvspook


	3. Good Night

Oh, why oh why do I always seem to be the one writing the author's notes?

*Stella sighs* I'll keep it short, I swear!

Hello again! I know it's been… eek! Six weeks since we've updated this story… I was so stuck with parts of this chapter, and Luvspook had all kinds of things happen to her over the last month, so I thought I'd be on my own this time. But low and behold, we've gained another author! The Black Rose has joined us, and co-authored this part with me, so without further ado (and babbling from Stella), here's the story.

And we know the disclaimer drill: None of own these characters – sad, it's so sad…

* * * 

"When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants, and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall. Think of it... always."

-Gandhi

ACROSS ENEMY LINES

Chapter 3 – Good Night

"Where'd Heero get to?" Duo wondered out loud as he and the others sat in the spacious library of the Peacecraft Manor's west wing. The four young men had retired to the room for the evening as Trowa sat at the edge of a long table, attempting to get an old radio that Sally had given him modified. They were hoping that he would manage to reach the secure frequencies and make some sort of contact with the Allied forces in order to inform them what had happened to the transport and receive new commands; telegraph lines to the front had been down for quite some time.

Quatre looked up from the book he had been reading and spoke up in reply to Duo's question. "I haven't seen him since before dinner. I thought he went back to his room, but the door was open when I walked passed and it was empty. Maybe he went for a walk, I know all the 'resting' was getting to him."

Duo smiled, thinking about the icy expression that crossed his injured friend's face every time Quatre instructed him to stay in bed. The medic turned his attention back to his book, leaving Duo to look around the room, taking in the floor to ceiling shelves of countless books in intricately carved cases. Large portraits of past monarchs hung in gilded frames, their painted eyes glinting in the light cast by the chandeliers that lit the extravagant room furnished in shades of deep red and gold.

By the window at the far wall, Wufei sat looking out on the setting sun, his eyes roving over the hill beyond the gate – to where Li had been laid to rest that morning. The funeral had been simple and solemn, practically non-existent, really. The others had not attended; he had wanted it that way. Three of the Sanq guards had helped him carry the casket, and the brother that had been by his side for as long as he could remember was commended to the earth, never to wake again.

Wufei's mind wandered back, still stuck on the events of earlier that day, back in the infirmary room. Before the other men were about to place Li in the coffin Sally had walked up to the surviving brother, holding something very tiny. His eyes followed the miniscule object between the tips of her fingers as she offered it to him, dropping it into his outstretched hand. A pearl. She had taken it from the pendant that she wore around her neck.

"To light his way to the afterlife," she said quietly with downcast eyes. Wufei was unable to say a word, at first utterly shocked that this woman knew of the Chinese tradition of placing a pearl in the mouth of the deceased, and secondly, that she would do this for a person she hardly knew. Their eyes met for a brief moment, but she had to turn away – the look of loss on his face too painful for her to bear.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't save him," she whispered in a voice too low for the soldier to hear, and then quietly exited the room.

Wufei snapped out of his thoughts as a hand clapped him on the back.

"Heck of a nice sunset out there, eh?" Duo grinned in an attempt to cheer him up. Wufei stiffened and ignored him entirely, still staring off into the horizon.

A few smart remarks flew through Duo's mind, but he held his tongue knowing that the fellow had just buried his brother that morning. He felt that stifling twinge of remorse grab his heart, threatening to chill his soul entirely and in an attempt to lessen its effect, turned away to offer up a lighter subject for discussion.

"Hey," the braided soldier called out with forced cheerfulness, causing Trowa to glance up from the dismantled radio, "I never asked you guys where you were from."

Quatre set his book down, looking eager to talk about anything besides fighting and war wounds. "Chicago," he offered. "Born and raised."

"New York here," Duo said walking back across the room. "I wasn't born there, but I lived in the city for as long as I can remember." He paused for a moment, seeming lost in thought. "I think I miss that skyline the most, you know? At night when the skyscrapers are all lit up, and the sky is clear with the stars out… nothing beats that."

"I miss my family," Quatre remarked softly, a twinge of sadness evident in his voice. "My sisters – even my father, though he hasn't spoken to me since I enlisted. He was against my joining the army, becoming a doctor. I haven't heard from him, but I've gotten a few letters from my sisters. At least I know they're all well."

"So you have a big family, Quatre?" Trowa asked from his place at the table, the question being answered with a chuckle from the soft-spoken medic.

"You could say that," he laughed. "I have more sisters and step-sisters than I can keep track of! But we're all very close. My mother died when I was young, so they all helped raise me."

Duo nodded, "Both my parents died when I was just a little kid. I grew up on the streets, pretty much, until one day when I picked the pocket of this priest. He caught me, and could've called a cop because there was one standing on the corner. " A wistful grin crossed Duo's features as he shared his memories. "Instead, he took me back to his church. The nuns fussed over me so much that Father Maxwell said I could stay. He really has been like a dad to me, and I had no last name when I went to enlist, so I used his."

Quatre glanced quizzically at his comrade. "So he wasn't angry when you signed up?"

Duo crossed his arms and reclined back into the sofa. "Well, he wasn't happy about it. I think he was hoping that I would be priest someday, too," he said with a shake of his head, as though the idea wasn't likely. "But he said that God leads us down our paths in life for a reason. I do miss him though – and the sisters." Looking over his shoulder, Duo twisted around to look at the man still determinately hovering above the pieces of a radio. "Hey, what about you, Trowa?"

"I don't have any real family that I can remember," Trowa said, turning in his seat to face them, having momentarily given up on his project. "I traveled with a group of drifters for most of my childhood, but I've lived in Kansas for the last couple years. We were passing through Wichita a while back and needed money, so the bunch of us took a job working on the harvest for a small farm just outside the city. The people who owned it took me in and let me stay when the others moved on. The Blooms, well, they're pretty much like family to me."

Duo sat there, drumming his fingers on the armchair and processing all the information, but suddenly he stopped and raised an eyebrow, smirking. "So, aside from your sisters, Quatre, any special ladies waiting for either of you back home?" He looked from one to the other. Trowa seemed unaffected, but Quatre reddened a little at the question.

"No, not really," he answered shyly, looking from Duo to Trowa.

"Catherine, the Blooms' daughter – but she's more like a sister to me," Trowa said, pushing his long bangs out of the way and resuming his efforts with the radio.

"And you, Duo?" Quatre asked.

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair as he began to answer. "Not unless you count the nuns," he smiled. "Sister Helen told me that she'd keep praying for me. Must be working, I'm still in one piece. I got a letter from her just before we shipped out for Normandy."

Quatre smiled. "It's always nice to hear from home."

It was at that exact instant that the radio crackled to life. Trowa sat back abruptly, surprised that he had actually managed to get the thing to work. Unable to make out what was coming through in the waves of static, he reached out and adjusted the various knobs and tuners until the sound became clearer.

Duo stood up and moved closer to the source of the noise as their ears were met with the strains of a familiar melody. A smile worked its way across his face as he began to sing along with the smooth tenor coming through the speakers. "It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing," he bellowed, throwing his arms up and moving in time with the beat.

"Trowa," Quatre called out, shouting over the music and standing up as well, "You must have picked up a signal from the States!"

A hint of a grin tugged at Trowa's lips as the music stirred up more memories of home, and he joined the other two men across the room singing along. "It don't mean a thing, all you gotta do is sing!" The three of them laughed between steps; each showing off some of the moves they had learned in their hometown dance halls. For just a little while, it seemed as if they were back home.

It wasn't long before all of the commotion drew Wufei's attention away from the quickly darkening landscape outside. He turned around, scowling disapprovingly at his comrades, and stood up, storming towards the door with tightly clenched fists. "If that's what you're going to do with your time," he spat in a low voice, annoyed that they had given up on their effort to contact the Allies for orders, at least for tonight. So intent was he in his sour thoughts that he just barely avoided colliding with Relena in the doorway. Without a word, he pushed passed her, and the bewildered young woman's eyes followed his retreat down the hallway before turning her attention back to what was going on in the room. She'd heard all the noise from her office down the hall, and had come to investigate. Leaning against the paneling at the room's entrance, amusement twinkled in her eyes as she watched the three of them.

Duo was the first to notice her presence. "Princess!" he called, stopping in mid-step and winking at her good-naturedly. Relena had become accustomed to his lack of formality in the short time she had known him, and found that it didn't bother her in the least. She gave him a shy smile of her own as he walked towards her, holding out his hand.

"Tell me, pretty lady, do you know how to swing?" She shook her head, giving him a puzzled look, and Duo took her hands. "It's real easy, just like this…" he instructed, showing her the basic steps. "Go on, try it!"

Relena mimicked him, hesitantly at first, but fell into the rhythm after just a few moments. Seeing that she was getting the hang of it, her dancing partner grinned wickedly, and without a word, spun around, releasing her hand and catching it behind his back in order to whirl her around until they were again facing each other. Relena laughed, nearly out of breath, as she was spun again and this time caught by Quatre.

"May I cut in?" he asked in a charming tone, leading her into another dizzying succession of turns and then handing her off to Trowa. Before Relena knew what was happening, his strong arms lifted her off of the floor and she found herself being tossed over his shoulders, but held securely and placed safely back on her feet only moments later. They stood still as the song concluded, casting wary glances at each other and smiling at the same time, feeling as though they had stopped the war and stolen a forbidden moment of joy. All of them knew that it had been far too long since they had laughed like that.

Trowa looked up as a shadow darkened the doorway. Heero's familiar silhouette quickly dissipated as he stepped farther into the room. Upon his entrance, the radio began to play a slower song, and Duo, who was standing next to Relena, took her hands again and began to dance, but his movements were far too quick for the tempo of the music. "Just showing the Princess a few steps, buddy," he said to Heero, twirling Relena around as his friend approached. "But it's awfully hot in here. I think I need some air. You're a great dancer, gorgeous," he winked again at the woman across from him. " But I'm sure Heero has a few moves of his own that he'd like to show ya!"

Duo's violet eyes sparkled mischievously as he released Relena's hand in the middle of the spin, sending her flying in a flurry of whirling blue silk and long golden hair to be caught by Heero. Trowa, along with Quatre who was trying not to laugh, fell in line behind Duo and exited the room. Quatre couldn't claim to know Heero very well, but there was something in his new friend's eyes and demeanor that he couldn't quite describe whenever the princess who had been so kind to them all was present.

* * *

She came to a stop within the circle of Heero's arms and looked up at him with a smile that quickly faded when she took in the grim set of his jaw, the tightly closed eyes and the ashen pallor of his cheeks. She felt the tremor of what had to be pain course through his body and instantly became concerned. She quickly moved her hands up to undo the buttons of his dress shirt in order to inspect the damage.

"I'm…I'm so sorry," she whispered, a feeling of panic invading her senses as her fingers trembled along with the tears that had come to her eyes. She worked the buttons opened and pulled the stiff material aside. She gasped at the spots of fresh blood that already stained the outermost white cloth of the bandages that dressed his tender wound. She needed to make sure that she hadn't torn any of the flesh around the delicate stitches and so her hand traveled further to move the fabric aside.

"I'm fine," he protested, annoyed that he was having trouble moving his arms. He wanted to push her away, but was unable to as pain continued to radiate through his upper body. She didn't appear to hear him, continuing to work at peeling aside the bandages, still intent on checking for fresh damage to the gash in his side. _She shouldn't be so concerned for me_, he thought briefly as he finally got the pain under control and reached down to stop her ministrations.

"I said I'm fine," he repeated in a cold tone, opening his eyes to glare down at her, but was instead surprised to see hurt flash briefly in her eyes just a moment before she turned her gaze towards the floor. Regret washed over him in a heavy wave and he closed his eyes when he heard the barely whispered apology fall from her lips.

She had been so kind to him; he had never known such kindness in his life, and he felt the desire to make amends for the unjustified pain he had just caused her. The soft melodic strains of the song on the radio reached his ears and though he didn't know what to say to the woman standing before him in order to set things right, she had seemed to like dancing with his comrades. In an attempt to sooth her distress, he moved closer, pulling her gently towards him until her head rested lightly on his chest. He began to sway in time to the music and saw her close her eyes as her body began to move with his own.

He brought his right arm up to encircle her waist, and he looked down intent on studying the woman he was holding. It was unsettling, this closeness, yet strangely comforting at the same time. Over the past few nights, he found that he had grown accustomed to her presence in his room, watching over him, soothing him. He even began to look forward to time of night when he would feel her delicate fingers on his forehead checking for a fever, and her soft hand brushing against his skin as she adjusted the covers of his bed, when he would hear her gentle voice as she spoke aloud to him when she thought he was asleep, telling him things that her father used to say and how she wished for peace…

He took a deep breath and couldn't help but breathe in her perfumed scent; it was the same delicate fragrance that lingered in his room long after she had retired to her own quarters for the night. He glanced downward, and noticed a loose lock of hair hanging in her face and gave in to the compulsion to brush it gently back into place. Her eyes darted up as he did so, meeting his so intensely that he was almost startled by the sudden burst of blue-green color staring back at him.

"Heero…" she breathed in askance, her soft voice reaching his ears and catching in his chest. There was something he needed to tell her, he thought vaguely as her hand reached up to clasp the one that was resting on her cheek. He traced a line along her chin with his thumb, and almost gave into the unfamiliar urge that settled over him.

"Thank you," he said, pulling away slightly only to see her eyes widen with surprise and regard him strangely.

"For… for what?" Relena stammered in reply, blushing at their closeness and finding herself once again drawn into those deep blue eyes that were staring down at her – at least for the moment.

"For taking care of m-…" he looked away for just an instant, "For taking us all in," he corrected, his posture stiffening a bit.

"Oh…" she murmured glancing away and shifting somewhat uncomfortably from one high-heeled foot to the other. She didn't miss the sudden tension that crept into his shoulders and the arm that was holding her so tight. She could tell there was something else he wanted to say to her, and felt anxiety move in along side the disappointment she was already feeling at his words.

She couldn't explain why it was she cared so much for him, why she liked the feeling of him being so close to her, holding her, dancing with her. Almost as if sensing her thoughts, he stopped swaying to the beat of the husky melody. His gruff voice and cessation of movement interrupted her thoughts.

"Especially when you have such close ties to the enemy."

She gasped in astonishment at his words. "Is that what you think?" She asked, looking up to search his eyes for some hint of humor or anything suggesting this was nothing more than a cruel joke, but his gaze was cold and unwavering.

Relena broke from his embrace and squared her shoulders. "I've told you before; we have no stake in the war. In fact I've done everything I can to thwart the Reich's efforts here."

"I meant to Zechs Merquise," Heero replied, his ever-watchful eyes noting her defensiveness at the simple statement.

"You mean Milliardo? My brother may be your enemy, but he is not mine. Though my father disowned him, he still protects his homeland. He would never allow Germany to take us."

Heero blinked in marked disbelief, finding her complete faith in this man difficult to fathom – it was endearing and disconcerting at the same time. And he understood then that what he was about to say was going to hurt her terribly. Regardless, Heero knew he had to tell her now, in hopes that perhaps they could find away to keep the inevitable from happening.

"Germany will take this kingdom, Relena. I saw the plans when I was captured behind the lines. Sanq has been targeted, and without defenses, you will fall and the Reich will take everything that you have." He watched the frown form on her face at his words, but pressed on. "Hitler's getting desperate and he needs all the resources he can get. Your brother's promises mean nothing to him."

The sweet expression that normally graced Relena's features had long since disappeared, and her lips now formed a thin line as she glared at the blue-eyed soldier venomously. "That's not true! Germany's been invading for years, and the Sanq has always been safe. Milliardo swore that…"

Heero shook his head, and once again reached for her arm. "The Reich will come, Relena. You're being foolish if you think otherwise," he said, his voice remaining calm and matter-of-fact. She pulled away from him completely, and he felt the breath go out of his body when he saw the mix of pain and anger on her face as she fought to blink back the tears that stung at her eyes.

"Who are you to presume to tell me that I am foolish?" She spat, her voice rising as she lost her battle with the tears. "Fighting is foolish, Heero – killing each other, now THAT is foolish! What you are saying isn't true, you are mistaken! My brother would not let such a thing happen, so weapons in this country are unnecessary. We are not now, nor will we ever be a part of this war!" She quickly turned on her heel and nearly ran from the room, her shoes clicking on the floor and echoing through the vastness of the room. As she retreated to her office a few doors away, she barely noticed the other three American soldiers making their way back towards the library. They froze in their tracks at the sight of her, looking at one another in question as to what could have upset the young woman that had been so kind to them. Her office door slammed shut, and so they walked swiftly in the direction of the room she had just come from to find out what the source of her distress could have been. What they found was Heero, standing alone in the middle of the library, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stood facing the windows.

"You've really got a way with the ladies, there, buddy," Duo said sarcastically as they walked through the doorway. Heero turned slightly, but made no response. Duo, however, was undeterred and pressed the matter. "Just what did you say to her?"

"I told her Germany was going to invade her country, no matter what her brother said."

Duo leaned against the wall and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well I can see how that might ruin the moment. You could have said, 'Gee, Princess, you look lovely tonight,' or 'May I have this dance…' But no – you have to say 'Germany's invading your country.' Man, you are one smooth fella. Remind me NEVER to ask you for romantic advice," the braided soldier quipped with a roll of his eyes.

"Romance has nothing to do with it," Heero replied flatly, still not bothering to look in Duo's direction.

"Right, whatever you say, pal." Duo glanced over to where Quatre and Trowa stood at the door, and then back at Heero. "So, I take it that you didn't kiss her."

"Get lost, Maxwell."

"Is that a no?"

Heero turned and shot a threatening glare in his comrade's direction.

"Ok, that's definitely a no – pay up you guys!" Duo called out over his right shoulder. Quatre and Trowa began digging through their pockets as Duo pushed away from the wall and walked over to them with his palm outstretched.

"Five bucks each was the bet, I believe, gentlemen," he grinned, collecting his winnings.

Heero moved towards the others, eyes slanted in irritation. Duo hooked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at his friend, but addressing the losers of the bet. "I knew he wouldn't be able to pull it off – even if she is rather taken with him."

"What do you mean by that?" Heero all but growled through his clenched teeth.

"Oh come on!" Duo howled. He turned to glare at Heero and then shook his head. "I used to think you were a real smart guy when we were stationed back in France, but I think that plane crash must have messed up your head."

Trowa stood back watching the scene unfold, wondering to himself if Heero was feeling strong enough to punch Duo in the mouth, because it certainly looked as though he wanted to.

"Hey," Duo asked, looking from Quatre to Trowa, "Am I wrong or does the princess have a bigtime crush on our soldier of fortune over here?"

The communications officer pushed his long bangs aside, nodding in agreement. Quatre reddened slightly as he smiled and nodded as well.

Duo looked satisfied, and showed no signs of letting up. He turned back around to Heero and nudged him playfully with a wide grin. "And you're sweet on her, too – admit it!"

It was then that Quatre noticed Heero's fists clenching at his sides, and decided that he best try to put an end to the situation before he had two injured men on his hands. "Heero, we should probably get you back to bed," the medic suggested warily, attempting to usher his patient through the doorway as Duo continued to laugh.

Heero shrugged out of Quatre's grasp and looked menacingly at each of them in turn. "I'm glad this is all one big joke to you," he seethed, and shoved Duo aside as he left to go back to his room.

* * *

The wounded soldier lowered himself slowly onto the bed, sucking in a breath and holding it until he managed to lie down, then exhaling slowly as the pain in his side dulled to an ache. The sheets were cold because the window had been open all evening, but the tired young man decided he lacked the conviction to lift himself back up to go and shut it. In the distance, a clock chimed the late hour and it occurred to him that she was usually here at this time, sitting beside him as he drifted in and out of sleep. His body was exhausted, yet his mind would not let him rest. He lay there, his thoughts unconsciously going back to her, trying to figure out what was bothering him most; the fact that she was in danger and refused to believe it, or the fact that he had upset her so much and made her cry.

He could still hear her voice, strained by her emotions, "Fighting is foolish, Heero… Killing each other, now THAT is foolish!" Is that what she thought of him? That he was just some fool fighting for the sake of fighting? And why should that bother him? But for a reason he couldn't explain, it bothered him very much.

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of footsteps in the hall, growing louder until they stopped at his door. Heero closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep, not wanting to talk to anyone – it was probably just Quatre coming to check on him anyway, since he felt sure that Relena wouldn't be coming to stay at his bedside tonight. The idea of her not being there disappointed him, and he let a frown settle on his face as he heard the doorknob turn. The swishing of a light fabric interrupted the silence of the room, and Heero suddenly realized that his nighttime visitor was certainly not Quatre as the familiar scent of Relena's perfume reached his senses, and he tensed momentarily, fighting not to give himself away.

Relena ventured in further, moving silently towards the bed and its occupant. She watched him for a long time, just as she had done since the first night he and the others came to stay in her kingdom. His features never seemed to soften, she noted; he seemed just as determined in sleep as he did when he was awake – the look on his face the same as when they had talked in the library... A wave of remorse washed over her, and she let out a long sigh, remembering how she had behaved earlier that night. She'd had no right to speak to him like that, and had come here intent on apologizing, though admittedly, Relena was very relieved that she had found him asleep.

Slowly, she moved his shirt out of the way and checked his wound – 'no more bleeding, that's good,' she thought to herself and gently folded the covers up to his shoulders. The princess quietly studied him again for a long time, and finally reached out to cover his forehead with her hand.

Heero felt his body relax with her touch, and hoped that she hadn't noticed the change. Her soft fingers danced along his hairline, smoothing back his disheveled mane and he could see her in his mind's eye; her long golden hair glinting in the light coming through he window, and that hint of a smile. Heero reveled in his waking dream, but became alert when he realized that she had begun to speak.

"I'm sorry, Heero. I acted like such a child tonight and it was inexcusable." He panicked for a split second – did she know he wasn't asleep? Steeling himself to keep his breathing slow and rhythmic, he listened as she continued. "I know I should tell you all this when you're awake," she stopped, and Heero felt her weight shift on the bed as she fidgeted a bit. "But I find that I can't say the things I want to say when you're staring at me with those eyes of yours…" Again she paused, "I've never seen eyes like yours," she added in a whisper.

"If only you knew what my eyes have seen, Relena – I can only hope that you will never know the ugly sight of war right outside your door," Heero thought quietly, trying not to flinch as the fabric of her sleeve tickled his arm.

The princess settled back into place, and continued to confide in him. "I know that it's silly to talk to you when you're asleep; I just can't help but feel that somehow you understand." She fussed with his covers, smoothing them over his chest. "I don't really have anyone here that I can talk to. They all look to me to keep things from falling apart, and if they knew how lost I feel sometimes, I think they would be really very frightened." A ragged breath escaped her lips, and he wondered if she was about to cry, but then he heard her take a deep breath and begin to speak again.

"Anyway, I shouldn't have spoken to you that way earlier tonight, you were only expressing your concern. Now your fever is back and the last thing you should be doing is worrying for me. Milliardo, I know, does enough of that. And no, I don't make it easy for him, taking in refugees, deserters - and American soldiers," she said with a short, nervous laugh. "You may see him as your enemy, but you don't know him as I do… he is not a Nazi, not in his heart. Perhaps you would be suspicious of me for saying so, but it's what I believe. What the Reich has done is deplorable, and I loathe them for it, but I cannot hate my brother. I know he loves me dearly and he fights for me, too – he fights to put an end to this war, just as you and your friends do. I can't see it all in terms of just allies and enemies. All I see is people suffering because of politics and prejudices. He wants to stop that just as much as you do, that's why he fights…"

"Have you ever asked him why he chooses to do fight with the Nazis, though?" Heero asked her silently. _"Is he really so selfless? You believe in him so completely, but he stands with those you despise. I also fight for all the reasons you say he does – will you believe in me, too?"_ he wondered.

The princess stood up slowly, and moved to the table beside the bed. Dipping a cloth in the water basin, she set the dampened material on her patient's hot forehead. "I'm worried for you, Heero," she confessed in a whisper. "You must rest and get well, and while you are here in my kingdom, I will do whatever I can to keep you safe." She pulled a chair next to the bed, and wrung out the cloth before dipping it into the basin once again.

"I…I've been praying since the war began, every night that it should end. But ever since we found you, I have added another prayer. I say one just for you, that you will survive and make it home to your loved ones, your family." She smiled tenderly down at him through the relative darkness. "I pray that you will be safe, Heero – that all of you will be, and that you won't have to fight anymore…."

"You worry for everyone but yourself Relena. Who watches over you?" Heero asked in his mind before he silently made a vow to protect this young woman who was so strong she sought to carry the burdens of the entire world on her shoulders alone.

Before replacing the cloth on his forehead, she leaned down and touched her lips to his fiery skin. "Maybe when this war is over, Heero, we can meet again. Maybe then things would be different and you could dance with me and feel peace in your heart instead of suspicion. Maybe then you'll be able to smile. I've never seen you smile." She rested her cheek against his for a few seconds, his feverish skin burning even more against the silkiness of her own. "Good night, Heero. Sweet dreams." Relena leaned back in the chair, and slipped into a deep sleep.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he made the decision to slowly open his eyes. The fever was getting the better of him, and his body screamed for rest, but his mind would not comply until he saw her. She had fallen asleep quickly, he surmised, and he turned his head slightly in search of her through the darkness of the room. Most of her face was hidden in the shadows, but all Heero had needed was a glimpse of her before he gave himself over to sleep.

"Good night, Relena…"

* * *

She woke up to windows smashing around her, and she stifled a scream of horror as a loud blast rocked through the courtyard, lighting up the tree-lined driveway as the foliage burst into flames. Staring blankly ahead, Relena lifted a trembling hand to her face, feeling the tiny cuts on her cheek from the flying shards of glass. Was it a bad dream? Yes, it had to be. This wasn't happening, this wasn't…

The roar of engines overhead began drawing near again, and Relena moved away from the chair by Heero's bed where she had fallen asleep and stood up, the chill of the night air biting at her through the shattered windows. "Heero?" she asked out loud, carefully making her way towards one of the windows, trying to avoid the sharp pieces of glass that were littering the floor. Her eyes frantically searched the room, stopping at the empty bed – there was no sign of him. No sooner had she come to stand at the nearest window than the manor was hit again. The jolt threw her to the floor, knocking the wind out of her. She slid across the cold marble towards the entrance to the room, stopping only when the back of her head and left shoulder slammed into the corner of the doorjamb. Gasping for breath, she attempted to lift herself up, but found she lacked the strength. The wounded princess could feel the frigid stone beneath her, and she closed her eyes, finding that all she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat, deafeningly loud.

Moments later, the door flew open and a voice called out for her. She tried to focus on his face, but all she could see was his silhouette against the light. "Hee… Heero?" she stammered, mumbling his name as he limped towards her. Suddenly an explosion shook the building again, and she found the young soldier on top of her, shielding her with his own already battered body while even more glass and debris flew around them.

They stayed that way, huddled on the floor, until the dust in the room began to settle and the only noises around them were the sounds of the wind rushing through the hollow windows, and the distant crackling of the burning trees outside. Heero coughed and Relena could hear the sounds of his labored breathing as he brought himself up to a kneeling position, glancing down at the healing wound in his side that was the cause of his discomfort. Noting that no farther damage had been done, he looked down at the girl still lying on the floor, just staring up at him.

"Can you move?" he asked, wondering just why she had made no attempt to get up. Had she been hurt?

She looked up at him, but gave no response. His voice sounded so far away; her ears were still ringing from the loudness of the explosions. She could feel the throbbing ache in her bruised left shoulder, and she slowly brought her right hand up to the back of her head, expecting to feel a flow of blood, but instead found it only swollen and tender to the touch.

"I, uh…" she faltered as he helped her to sit up. "What was that?" Relena asked dazedly. She knew the answer, but she just didn't want to believe it.

"It was a bombing raid," Heero stated matter-of-factly, taking her hand as she attempted to steady herself on her own two feet.

"No…" she said quietly, still holding onto the back of her aching head. "No, he wouldn't." Tears welled in her eyes as she let go of him and stumbled across the destroyed room, sharp pieces of glass and broken wood and stone cutting her feet along the way, but she seemed not to notice. Finally Relena came to the large opening where a floor to ceiling window had been, and stood at the edge, surveying the chaos below. The courtyard and entranceway were in ruins, the destruction evident as the light of the flames licked at the cloudy night sky. Everywhere there were shadows of the skeletal burnt out west wing, and her ears were met with the frantic yelps of the small team of gardeners fighting to put out the blazing trees.

In the meantime, the others had gathered at the door, silently watching the young woman wade through the remnants of the room.

"Heero, are you alright – Miss Relena?" Quatre asked quietly, genuinely concerned about the two of them. "Is she hurt, Heero?" the medic questioned.

"I don't…" Heero was interrupted as Peygan and one of the groundskeepers found their way to the corridor.

"Miss Relena!" Peygan called, gasping for breath and he came to a halt. The woman inside the room showed no signs of acknowledgement, she merely stood still with her back to all of them, still staring out at the scene before her.

"Are you hurt, Miss Relena?" Peygan tried again, still receiving no response. He moved past the four young men standing by the doorway and began to walk towards her.

The groundskeeper spoke up upon the butler's departure. "Please, any of you that are well enough. We need all the men we can get to help put out the fires."

"Right," Trowa said as he and Duo fell in line behind the soot-covered man. Quatre turned to Heero, as he began to follow them.

"Heero, you can't," the medic commanded, giving his patient the fiercest look he could muster. "Please… don't argue with me, your wound still isn't healed." The dark-haired man standing opposite him still looked as though he were ready to protest, and Quatre realized that he must give him another task or else he would resist. "Do what you can to help Miss Relena," his comrade called over his shoulder as he ran to catch up with the others.

Heero still had half a mind to follow them all out to the burning courtyard, but thought better of it as a sharp twinge of pain jabbed at his abdomen. Instead, he turned his attention back to the decimated bedroom, watching poor Peygan still attempting to pick his way through the wreckage. But the kindly old butler stopped in his tracks when the lady of the house turned around and began to speak to him.

Her tears had come and gone – now there was something far greater than shock or sadness shining in her eyes.

"Peygan, help me pack my things. I am going to Austria to find Milliardo. He never would have allowed them to do this. He never…"

"Miss Relena, you can't go! You can't cross the enemy lines! There's a war going on out there," Peygan argued, raising his voice slightly, his concern for the girl who had become like his own child getting the better of him.

"I'm going. I'll find a way!" She shouted back furiously, and with that she began to trudge back across the ruined room. Relena walked past her stunned butler, but met some resistance as she arrived at the door. Heero stood in front of her, blocking her path.

"You can't go out there," he stated flatly.

No hint of fear or hysterics was in his voice. It was just as if he'd asked her not to do something terribly mundane. He could see the fury etched on her face as she stared up at him defiantly, yet he stood in the way.

"Do you want to get yourself killed?" he asked, again so calmly that it only served to agitate her further.

"Right now, all I want to do is save my people from the fate that has befallen all of the countries around us," she spat, trying to push past him.

He reached out and caught her arm, forcing her to turn around and face him. She whirled around, glaring at the man who held her, and with her free arm, raised her hand to strike him across the face for his trouble.

Heero caught her hand a split second before it struck his cheek, but his eyes never left hers. "So you think you'll be able to save your people if you're dead?"

She stopped, and he felt her body go limp in his grasp as the meaning in his words began to take hold of her.

"I…" Relena looked up, unable to answer. She never would have let anyone else speak to her that way, let alone listened to them if they had. But there was just something about him… Heero gently brought her arm down to her side before letting go of her as she continued to stare up blankly at him, the bewilderment of all the emotions flying through her being evident on her face.

"Miss Relena!" The cook and her assistant came charging down the hallway, the portly chef waving an envelope in her hand. She was very out of breath as she arrived before the young sovereign, and gave a half-hearted attempt at a curtsy as the assistant cook explained the details of the item they were delivering.

"One of the guards from the eastern border brought this, ma'am," she stated excitedly as her superior handed the envelope to Relena. It bore the telltale insignia of the Nazi party, and the princess hesitantly tore at the paper, finally lifting out the message contained inside it.

The members of the household stared at her, waiting for the news. The paper suddenly took flight, fluttering gracefully to the floor as it slipped from her shaking fingers. Relena looked at the people gathered around her, then turned her attention back to Heero.

"It's from Milliardo… he's coming back."

* * *

I promise we won't take so long next time! And keeping with tradition, here's an idea of what we're working on for next time.

Preview of Chapter 4

He walked alone from that point on and came to an abrupt stop in front of the riased platform at the end of the hall. The princess stepped down, moving just inches away from him, not able to speak as she fought to catch her breath. It was him… but at the same time, it wasn't…

His once sparkling and joyful blue eyes were steely and detached, as if ice had formed in the irises and continued to spread throughout his body. He was taller and seemed so much stronger, but in a fierce and brutal sense – not at all like their father's gentle and protective strength. The officer stood before her, rigid and silent – frozen at attention as if challenging his younger sister to find any trace of the brother she had once known, of the boy he had been. Relena shivered involuntary, and fought to keep her hand from trembling as she reached out for him.

"Milliardo," she whispered in a tone audible to no one but him. The cold eyes met hers and studied them intently. She took yet another step closer, and with that, he made a sudden movement, raising his right arm as if he were reaching out for her as well. Relena relaxed, smiling as she prepared to embrace the brother she has missed for so long. But instead of falling into his sister's outstretched arms, the SS Colonel moved aside and glared at the young woman.

"Heil Hitler," he said sharply, and watched has her arms fell back to her sides.

* * *

Let's hope for Luvspook's triumphant return to this fic for ch. 4. Until then, thanks for reading! Love, Stella, (Luvspook and Rose)


	4. Homecoming: It was him… but at the same ...

Across Enemy Lines - Chapter 4 by Stella, Luvspook, and the Black Rose

We know it's been quite a while.Forgive us & enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer:We do not own any of these characters.We'll get over it.Someday.Maybe…

***

"If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility."

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

ACROSS ENEMY LINES

Chapter 4: The Homecoming

Unable to sleep, Relena dressed quickly just before dawn that morning and slipped out of the humbled palace to go through what was left of the gardens after the previous night's bombing raid.Most of the grounds were in ruins.Charred grass and ashen trees telltale evidence of the ruthless attack – an attack he had said would happen, an attack she still couldn't believe.

And as she walked along, taking in the heartbreaking confirmation of misguided faith in a man she had known all her life, a single thought rang through her head."Milliardo is coming back."

Not really sure where she was headed, she ended up in a place she hadn't been in months.As she knelt beside her father's grave in the family cemetery, she wished she had brought some flowers to place at the foot of the headstone – the gardenia bush she had planted last time was withered and dying.

A slight breeze blew and tossed a few loose strands of hair about her face, as the deep purple sky to the east grew lighter with every passing moment.Absently, she picked at a few blades of grass, tearing them in her hand and tossing them up to dance away on the wind.She smiled wistfully and then turned back to address King Peacecraft's grave.

"Milliardo is coming back today, father.I know that when you were alive, you were angry with him, but you were only mad because you loved him and you wanted more for him than the life of a soldier.He's got a kind heart, just like yours, I can see so much of you in him.I just wish I could understand…" Her voice trailed off as the memory of glass shattering, the world erupting, and her body being thrown to the floor came to her mind again.She closed her eyes, wanting to shut it out, but the fear – the fear was still too vivid.

"There was a bombing raid last night, father.I now can understand why they call the citizens of London so brave.They have survived night after night of this and still their army fights.I don't believe in fighting, but I can appreciate their courage, their strength.I don't know if I would have been able to handle it, though, if Heero hadn't been there."She remembered the way he had protected her, diving quickly to the ground to shield her body with his own.He hadn't had time to think, and yet he hadn't hesitated. 

She opened her eyes and smiled."Oh, I guess I should tell you about him.But where do I start?I know so little about him, really, and yet it seems like I already know all I need.I would like to think that you would approve of him, father, even though he is a soldier.Even though he is an American soldier.He is not like anyone I've ever met before – his eyes are so intense all the time.He is so strong."She recalled the feeling of his arms around her, and how it felt to hold him for a brief instant before reality had come crashing over them – ruining their stolen moment.

"He told me that he had seen Germany's plans to invade our country, to attack our kingdom, and like the blind fool I was, I called him a liar.But when he was proved right all along, he didn't gloat.I was outraged and embarrassed.To have offered sanctuary to these poor men only to put them back in the middle of a war zone was never what I wanted for them – for him."She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, hugging her legs to her chest, the memory of him vivid in her mind.

"I could have done something stupid, putting all my people at risk, and yet he stopped me.He protected me, and comforted me – after I had told him he was wrong and doubted him, he held me and told me he had faith in me.I think, father, that was the moment I began to fall in love with him."She blinked back tears and drew in a breath after uttering that heavy statement.Love, it sounded so innocent and pure.And it was.But the sentiment came with so many complications and consequences.She raised her head and looked again at the King's headstone, her voice cracking slightly with emotion as she began to speak to him again.

"Oh father, what am I going to do?What will Milliardo say when he comes?Will he have an explanation?Will he make more promises to protect us?Can I believe him?" She took a deep breath as she considered that question for a moment.Her voice dropped to a lower pitch and she shook her head as she answered herself, "I don't think I can."

"I never did believe in the Reich's philosophies. I hate everything they stand for, and everything they've done.But they have been our protector.And I have pushed the envelope by taking in these American soldiers, I know, but I wouldn't change anything I've done.But what will he say, father?What will happen if he finds out that I care so much for a man who is his enemy?" She bit her lip to stop it from trembling, but couldn't keep herself from fidgeting.Her hands folded and unfolded until finally the restlessness got the better of her, forcing Relena to her feet.

"I wish you were here, I wish you could tell me what to do, and lend this kingdom strength that I cannot.I feel so lost sometimes, father, so inadequate to rule."She glanced up at the sky that was now a bright blue with the new morning and felt the sun warm her skin.The heat contrasted deeply with the chill of anxiety in her veins.

"The longer this conflict goes on, the more certain I become that I will have to choose a side to stand with.But which one should I choose?" She brought her hands up to either side of her face as if trying to block out the world and the war that caused so much pain.

"My choice has just become so much more difficult, and I've never had quite so much to lose before now.Can I turn my back on my brother?" She dropped her hands back to her sides, her fists clenching unconsciously in the fabric of her skirt."And if I cannot, will I be forced to betray my new friends and my...this man I have come to care so much for?"

She bent and pressed her lips to the cold marble of her father's last resting place, then slowly rose back to a standing position.A cool breeze swept in, forcing her to cross her arms over her chest for warmth.She stood for a moment in silent contemplation of the responsibilities that she had to carry on her own.

"I miss you, father, but it is well you did not live to witness these times, this war, such choices.My first duty should always be to protect my people.But what about my heart?Or is war's greatest casualty not suffered by the men left on the field of battle, but by the love shattered in a woman's heart?"She swallowed against the lump that had formed in her throat and blinked back more tears that were threatening to fall.

"I'd better get back, father.I must be ready for when Milliardo arrives.And yet I do not feel like I should ever truly be ready for his return.It's been so long since I have seen him.I wonder what he will look like, now."A smile briefly touched her lips as several memories of their childhood came to mind quickly.Playing tag in the garden when she was eight; the leaves of fall bright and colorful on the ground.A late night advice session a few years later, with hushed voices so that the servants wouldn't hear and send them off to their beds. 

Then the smile quickly faded when she remembered the day he left so many years ago after he and their father had argued for the last time.She had cried and clung to him, begging him not to go, but was coldly pushed away without even a goodbye.

In a voice choked and strange, barely above a whisper, she asked the wind,"Will he still have the sweet face of my beloved brother? Or will he possess the hardened features of my enemy?"

******

The silver swastika hood ornaments glinted in the afternoon sun; Zechs Merquise closed his eyes and waited.He held his breath, and at the border guard's signal, the two black Mercedes rolled slowly across the checkpoint.Zechs' hand wandered to the panel on the car door, inching towards the control for the window.With a slight movement of his finger the pane of glass slid downward.The long-held air in his lungs escaped at the sensation of the wind kissing his cheeks, and then tossing strands of long blond hair over his face more violently as the car picked up speed.Moving the stray locks away from his eyes, he opened them at long last, and stared out at the rapidly passing landscape.

It might have been anywhere, he reasoned sensibly, for many parts of Germany and France looked like this – dense green forests that in time gave way to grassy hills and meadows that sloped into the golden horizon.To his left, he watched as a young boy led a flock of sheep across a pasture, and to his right, smoke billowed out of the chimney set atop a cheery stone farmhouse with a neatly thatched roof.Yes, this might have been any corner of Europe - before the war, of course.Since then, most everywhere he went had been reduced to ruin, to burnt out shells of buildings smoldering in the wake of an air raid, the once green countryside charred and torn apart.Amidst the bleakness and utter destruction, the Sanq had remained untouched, shining like a pristine jewel in his sister's future crown – until just a few days ago.

Word of the bombing raid had reached Zechs just as he had been returning to Austria on Treize's orders.The noted fighter pilot had commanded his driver not to stop until they reached Krushranada's lavish chalet tucked away at the base of the mountains; Treize should be there already, he reasoned, though a blinding rage coursed through every last inch of his being."Damn you, Treize," he seethed under his breath, remembering the day five years ago that he had stood before young baron, imploring him to spare the Sanq as the Reich stormed the countries around it.

_"Your concern for your homeland is admirable, but I must ask you - why should you care so much about the fate of the Sanq Kingdom?" The aristocrat-turned-colonel had questioned as he studied his fingernails and languidly polished them on his coat."Your father turned you out and made you an exile, deprived you of your reign and of your country.He was foolish in not building his own army – his kingdom practically begs for invasion."_

_"My father," Zechs said quietly, "is dead.My young sister now has rule of the country.The Sanq Kingdom is a small nation and a pacifist land.It will be no trouble to Germany if it is just left alone."_

"The orders from Berlin were clear."

_"I will guarantee that Sanq will pose no threat."The young lieutenant fought the urge to turn away, feeling the heat of humiliation burning his cheeks, but the thought of Relena, his little sister, made him swallow his pride."Please, Treize, as my friend." He drew a deep breath, clenching his hands at his sides, waiting for an answer._

_"Friend?"The superior officer mused."You save my life once and you think you can ask for such things?" Treize inquired smoothly, slanting his eyes at the man across from him._

_Zechs__ bowed his head."No, sir, I do not.But I ask for this anyway."_

__

"Zechs?Zechs, are you alright?"Lucrezia Noin called out to him, her hand tentatively touched his, but just for an instant before she pulled it away.She silently berated herself for the action.

Noin had come to know the man who called himself Zechs Merquise when she was sent to serve under Colonel Treize Krushranada during the invasion of Austria in 1939.As one of his personal secretaries, she sat in on many a military briefing, making the necessary notes and reports for the commanding officers, Zechs among them.And it was after one of those meetings, on the day that he asked Treize to spare the Sanq, that she had fallen in love with him.

Voices were still coming from the conference room, and Lucrezia figured that some of the officers had just stayed behind to further discuss strategies.As she made her way back down the hallway in search of a file that she had left behind, she recognized the husky baritone that resonated against the walls."But I ask for this anyway." 

_She stopped at the door and tried to conceal herself, finding it difficult to flatten herself against the wall and into the shadows with the stack of folders teetering in her arms. _

_Then she saw them._

_A gasp lodged in her throat at the sight of the usually self-confident and poised Zechs Merquise staring at the floor, his shoulders slumped, his head bowed low.Treize stood with his arms crossed; staring passed the other man as though in rapt contemplation. _

_' I shouldn't be here,' she told herself, but her feet were frozen and her body refused to move.Instead, she stood rooted in place as Treize began to speak._

_"How old is your sister?" He asked, his arm coming to rest on the younger man's shoulder.She closed her eyes and lowered her head, sympathy creeping into her heart for the man she barely knew. _

_"Fifteen," came the choked reply. She didn't recognize his voice, and her head snapped up, thinking, for a moment, that someone else had entered the room._

"Milliardo," Treize began, and at the name, Zechs's eyes quickly darted upwards."As a member of the Reich, I cannot do this for you.Not taking your former homeland for Germany is not in our best interests, even if you say that your sister, the princess, will never take up arms against us.The Fuhrer wishes to have all of Europe.As officers in his army, it is our duty to fulfill that wish."

Zechs nodded and continued to stand face to face with Treize.Noin began to back away, the name 'Milliardo' still echoing in her mind, but stopped when Treize's voice filled the room once again.

"But as your friend, I will tell Berlin that we will be concentrating on the expansion into France after we have finished taking Austria.It should not be too difficult to overlook the Sanq Kingdom."

Zechs said nothing.Treize exited from the other side of the room, bathing the room in an eerie silence. The blonde officer stood there for a very long time after his superior left, a statue poised in a garden of military maps and conference tables.Noin let her breath out slowly, and resumed her retreat, inching her way back into the darkness of the corridor, fighting to keep the files she had been holding all this time from sliding out of her grasp.Try as she might, one folder launched itself off of the pile, followed quickly by the rest.Through the dull flop sound of the folders hitting the ground and the whisk of fluttering pieces of paper, she looked up and found a pair of ice blue eyes glaring down at her.

In a flash, he stood in front of her, and before she knew what was happening, strong fingers coiled around her slender neck, squeezing ever so slightly as he forced her to look at him.

"How much did you hear?" He growled, tightening his grip as he pushed her against the wall.

Noin's hands groped for something to help her regain her balance, but all she could find was the rough grain of the wood paneling.It scratched against her sweating palms as she tried to steady herself against the man towering over her.To Noin's surprise, she wasn't afraid of him - nervous yes, but not afraid.Rationally, perhaps she should have been.He seemed every bit the predator, eyeing her coldly, his hair flaring wildly around his face, teeth clenched in rage – all of this giving him the appearance of a caged lion. 

She never trembled.Instead she held his gaze defiantly, trying to convey through her eyes a sensitivity and understanding. She set her jaw as if she were ready to do battle, and quietly managed to form the words, "Trust me, Zechs.I won't betray you." 

She waited.He continued to stare. How much time passed, she didn't think either of them knew.When she once again became aware of her surroundings, she gently slid her hand over his, urging his fingers to release the hold on her throat. His posture relaxed, and he allowed her to remove his hand.She clasped it in her own, easing his arm down to his side.

"Your sister is the princess of the Sanq Kingdom?" she asked quietly, gauging him for a response, noting that the air of tension and hostility between them had long since dissipated.

"Yes," he answered, his response barely audible.

"Then that means you're the..."

"Prince.Not anymore – not for a long time.But my sister… she doesn't deserve the fate that the Reich has in store for her.Sanq would be a strong nation now, if I had never left.But… this is all I can do – from here."

"Zechs, I…"

"The Reich, for so long now, has been my only family.It has been so many things to me. It filled the emptiness in my life after I left the Sanq Kingdom.My men – they are the brothers I never had; my commanding officers – the models I always wanted my father to be.But no one takes the place of my sister.She is an innocent, as Sanq itself is innocent.And I must protect them both.Though I realize this is not something I can accomplish on my own."

His cold blue eyes warmed during his speech and displayed a range of emotions Noin had never dreamed resided in the depths of the man she had only admired from afar - he himself as distant and mysterious as the homeland he spoke about.But now she couldn't help but feel as though she understood him, and she drew nearer, placing a comforting hand on his cheek.

"Zechs, I don't know what to say."

"There is nothing to say, Noin.I've never had to ask for help before.I've never had to ask anyone for anything, but will you…?"

She hadn't bothered to let him finish; her heart had answered for her."Yes."

The same heart had leapt when he asked her to accompany him on his return to the Sanq Kingdom, and so she sat beside him now, watching with him as towers of Peacecraft Manor came into view.For the first time in nearly nine years, Milliardo Peacecraft was going home.

******

Heero frowned and finally, with great effort, lifted himself from the bed.He wanted to talk to Relena before she met with…the enemy.He would not allow himself to think of the man as her brother; his army was invading, and so Zechs Merquise had to be watched, the country prepared.He knew it was going to be a difficult task to convince the Princess to take up arms against the Reich, but since the bombing the night before, and their…discussion, he thought she might be willing.

"I do not know what to think anymore," she said in a quiet voice.Unshed tears wavered in her light blue eyes as she looked up at him from her place just outside the door to her room.

He had walked her to her quarters after the evening's excitement, still wary that she might have been injured from the force of the blast.They stood in the hallway of the east wing, continuing a conversation she had begun as soon as the other members of the household had left.

_"Relena, your country has been attacked.You should be thinking of how to defend it."_

_She had smiled then, but it wasn't out of any joy she held, but rather a smile of sadness."You were right, you know."_

_"I wish I hadn't been.I was just trying to…"_

"To warn me, I know.And I wanted to apologize to you before this happened.I'm sorry for what I said today."

_"There's nothing to be sorry for."His chest felt tight, but he wasn't sure if it was because of his wound, or something else._

_"Yes, there is.I offered you sanctuary, a place to rest and to heal.It wasn't supposed to be this way."_

_"It's not your fault."_

_"I…I want to thank you.You very well may have saved my life tonight.On more than one occasion."_

_He nodded and then started to leave, but was stopped by her hand on his arm.He turned back and threw her a questioning glance.The warmth of her touch spread through him.His breath came in short gasps._

_She stood up on tiptoe and pressed her lips against his cheek in a chaste kiss very similar to the one she bestowed on his forehead earlier.Before he had a chance to react, however, she turned away, stopping only briefly before she opened the door to her room to whisper, "Good night." And then she was gone._

Still distracted by the memory, he entered the dining room where the rest of his comrades were already assembled, waiting for breakfast to be served, and was immediately accosted by Quatre.

"How do you feel, Heero?Here, let me feel your forehead.Did you get some rest last night? Your head is warm; you still have a fever.You should be lying down, not exerting yourself.I can have Peygan bring you some breakfast…."

"Where is she?" He asked, his eyes searching the room's other occupants while he tried to ignore the medic's tiresome fussing.His gaze settled on the braided soldier sitting at the table; he didn't miss the smirk on Duo's face."Shut up Maxwell."

Duo's eyes widened, and the knowing smile dropped from his lips. "I didn't say anything," he blinked innocently. 

"You were thinking it." Heero crossed his arms and glared.

"What?How do you know what I was thinking?" 

"Because you cannot think without engaging your mouth in one way or another."

Duo grinned."So you knew then that I was thinking about how sweet you are on her highness, and what it would be like to go from being a soldier to being the king of an entire country?Think I could get used to that myself, actually," he said and brought his hands up behind his head in a casual pose.He leaned his chair back and was about to put his feet up on the table, when the door to the dining room opened again.Seeing Peygan, he dropped the chair legs quickly back to the floor. 

The old butler frowned disapprovingly at Duo, then turned to Heero. "In answer to your question, Mr. Yuy, she went out this morning by herself to take a walk.Miss Relena often wanders the garden and visits her father's grave.They were very close after her mother, the Queen died.And now that both her parents are gone, her brother is the only family she has left."

Heero nodded."How long has she been gone?Will it be possible to speak with her before…he arrives?"

"She has been gone quite a while now, longer than usual.But she has much to think about, I imagine, considering the late unpleasantness that has surfaced in the kingdom.I do not know if there will be time for you to speak with her before Mr. Peacecraft arrives."

A frown crossed the face of the injured soldier."Hn."

Peygan turned to speak to the rest of the assembly."In answer to your question, Mr. Maxwell, this entire country is very small, and I do not think you should have to worry about what it would be like to rule.If her brother was not in exile, he would be king, and she would have a husband provided for her.Since she has been forced to take on the full responsibility of the kingdom, she would most likely choose a nobleman of high moral character, preferably a descendant from one of the other royal families of Western Europe."His voice held a lofty tone as he spoke to the young men.Heero narrowed his eyes at the butler who, having delivered his not-too-subtle message, turned and quickly exited the room.

As soon as he was gone, Duo made a face at the door Peygan had just disappeared through."What the hell does that mean, a husband would have been provided for her?"

"It means an arranged marriage," Trowa said in a quiet voice."But he is just voicing his opinion on who he thinks the princess should marry.I wouldn't place much stock in what he says, Duo."He cast a sidelong glance at Heero as he said it even though he addressed the comment at the more cheerful man sitting next to him.

Duo looked up and started to protest, but Trowa winked at him.Getting the message, he quickly covered the action with a fake yawn-and-stretch move.

"Ahhhhh.Well, I for one, want to get a good look at this Zechs Merquise fella."

"I don't think that's such a good idea.This is a family affair, and our presence would just cause her trouble, I think," Trowa said with a slight frown.

"Yes," Wufei added, "I'm sure this 'Lightning Count' would not want to see five American soldiers in his home country.We should leave or stay out of sight."

"Leave?We can't leave," Duo protested.

"It would be unadvisable," Heero replied in a flat tone of voice, his eyes and expression not betraying any reasons he might have held for wanting to stay. "We have not yet been able to contact our superiors." 

"You can't go anywhere, Heero, in the shape you're in." Quatre said with a frown."You should be resting."

Heero once again glared at the medic, but was soon distracted by the sound of Duo's voice.Again. 

"I didn't mean show up and ask for a hug from the guy.But maybe we could sneak in, you know find a way to see him, without him seeing us," Duo said, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Heero arched an eyebrow."What did you have in mind?"

"Well, the Sanq guards will most likely be in attendance, right?"

"That could work," Trowa said, nodding in agreement.

"All we have to do is find out where they keep the extra uniforms." 

"I bet Peygan knows," Quatre said, trying to be helpful.All eyes turned towards him.

"You're right, I bet he does know.And since you're the only one of us he doesn't seem to hate, I nominate you to ask him, Quatre."Duo pointed across the table at the medic.

"I second that," Heero said, shaking his head as he realized he had just agreed with Duo twice in one day.

Quatre frowned and muttered something under his breath."Fine," he said and turned to go after Peygan. 

As soon as Quatre had left, Heero moved towards the outside door on the opposite end of the room. Duo saw him, and started to ask something, but was stopped by Trowa's hand on his arm.In a low voice, the communications officer said, "You know where he's going, don't agitate him any more than you have to."

Duo snorted."Ah come on. I'm just having a bit of fun with him.Lighten up."

"He obviously is very serious when it comes to her.You're only inviting trouble."

"Humph.You don't understand; he's serious about everything.Do you know that when we were first stationed together in France, he didn't speak a word to me for three weeks?Three whole weeks!And when he did, you know what he said?"

A slight smile tugged on Trowa's lips."I can guess."

"Shut up, Maxwell.Three weeks without a word from him and the first thing he says to me is 'shut up'." He scowled with the memory."It's about time he started to loosen up and appreciate the fairer sex.He was beginning to worry me."

Trowa chuckled."How so?"

"There was this really good looking secretary that had the hots for him. Like really bad.She thought that we were friends, so she would ask me all kinds of questions about him, but of course I didn't know anything about Mr. Friendship-is-a-bad-word over there.But I could tell she was interested, you know?He wouldn't give her the time of day."

"Well, at least you can chalk it up to being nothing personal," Trowa offered.

"Yeah, I guess, but it seemed a waste to me.Pretty thing drooling all over him, God only knows why, and he wouldn't even say hi to her."

Trowa shrugged and was about to reply when the door burst open, and Quatre came in, his face flushed and blue eyes sparkling."You guys have got to see this."

******

Zechs sat up straight in the plush leather seat, adjusting his collar and smoothing his uniform jacket in effort to distract himself and quell the wave of anxiety that had swept over him since the motorcade had made the final turn towards the Manor gates.They came into view; those familiar stone lions perched atop the gate.His heart warmed when he saw them, like old friends; decidedly more gray and weather-worn than he remembered, but still there, keeping their silent vigil just as he did from afar.To guard his sister and her kingdom, to be her sentinel and keep the ever-encroaching beast of war at bay.So he had wanted to be, and had done for as long as he could; but like the lions, he had become weary, too.

The full extent of the damage had not been visible, since they had approached from the east, but as the Manor laid spread out before him, Zechs caught his breath.The crippled west wing still smoldered in the afternoon light, the scorched stone of the once proud structure crumbling amidst the graveyard of charred trees and blackened grass.The beast had come and gone, and unless Relena agreed to what he had come to offer her, it would surely return.

A dozen blue-clad guards stood at attention, causing the pair of Mercedes to glide to halt while the drivers stated their intent.Zechs pressed his face to the window, examining ornate and twisted wrought iron of the gates more closely, recalling the day that they had closed behind him for what he believed would be forever._Father you have been a fool.And although I may continue to suffer for my sins, I pray that Relena will not have to suffer too greatly for yours._Once again the car began to move. 

"Do you think she'll recognize you, Zechs?" Noin called out in a comforting tone, having noticed the uneasiness that tugged at his features.

"The question is whether or not I will recognize her.She was just a child when father – when I left home."

"She's your sister," Noin smile reassuringly."I'm sure you'd know her anywhere." 

******

He was instantly greeted by the crisp air of morning hitting his face and jarring the rest of the fatigue from his mind.He closed the door behind him and started to trek across the grounds toward the family cemetery in search of Relena.

"A husband provided for her…" 

_"She would choose a nobleman, preferably a descendant from one of the other royal families…" _

_Translation: a woman like her, a princess, would never love a lowly soldier such as you._

He scowled, and then wondered why the idea bothered him so much.She was an ally, a friend, nothing more.She had shown him kindness and he was thankful for her aid.He wanted to try and repay her.

"You wanted to kiss her last night," he told himself with brutal honesty.He let out a breath and tried to push those thoughts from his mind.He needed to talk to her now, get her to agree now, before her brother arrived and possibly weakened her resolve, to align herself with the Allied Forces and take up arms against Germany.

He crossed the narrow road leading towards the palace and could see the cemetery only a few yards away.A cool but gentle breeze wafted through the air, and carried a soothing voice on its crest.

"I miss you, father, but it is well you did not live to witness these times, this war, such choices.My first duty should always be to protect my people.But what about my heart?"

Feeling slightly guilty at the thought of eavesdropping, he stopped, the wind alternating between carrying her voice to his ears and muffling the sound.He caught the words, "I'd better get back, father.I must be ready…" 

Then just a few other snippets, like: "It's been so long since I have seen him." "My beloved brother." "My enemy."

He didn't pretend to know what that all meant, so he just waited for her to appear from her place hidden behind the trees that surrounded the small cemetery.As she let herself out of the little gate she looked up and saw him waiting for her. She stopped and stared at him a moment before tucking behind her ear the loose strands of hair that danced on the wind.She smiled, and then began to walk towards him.

He could feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest when she smiled at him.But this was not the time for…these emotions.He took a deep breath to calm himself and made up his mind to be direct and blunt about the whole thing.As soon as she was near, he was just going to tell her 'you need to join with us and fight against Germany.'

"Good morning, Heero" she said in greeting. 

He opened his mouth to say the words, but was silenced by her hand on his forehead, feeling cool and soothing next to his fevered skin.He closed his eyes and relaxed against her, feeling her arms go about his neck, and his own grasp her waist, pulling her close.

There was a strange sound behind them on the narrow road, but he was in too deep to care.His lips grazed her neck as he inhaled the scent of her hair and buried his face into her shoulder.He could feel her breath on his cheek, warm and rapid, like the beating of her heart through the clothing she wore.

"Heero," she whispered.

He felt her stiffen suddenly, and she squirmed in his grasp.He pulled away and looked up to see surprise written on now-colorless features as she stared at a point behind him.He released his hold on her waist, silently berating himself for indulging the emotion of his heart, and slowly turned to face the cause of her distress.

His lip curled into an angry snarl as he watched the motorcade of black Mercedes pass by with the silver Swastika hood ornaments and knew immediately who it was.

"Milliardo…."

******

The command for the driver to stop the car stuck in his throat.Zechs stared, staring out of the shaded window and gaping dumbly while the car meandered slowly through the still-green portions of the Manor's tree-lined driveway.Noin had indeed been correct; he would recognize his little sister anywhere.The honey-blonde hair so like their mother's, the delicate features and graceful profile… so reminiscent of the little girl he remembered.A small smile tugged at his lips, and he fought the urge to open the door and rush out to take her in his arms and swing her in a circle just as he had done when she was small.

Relena…But she was not alone, he suddenly noticed, in the summer garden just outside the family cemetery.As they neared, he realized that his sister was turned towards a man with unruly brown hair, not merely standing beside him but embracing him… embracing – the ENEMY!

The smile dropped from his face, and he felt his whole body begin to quiver.There was no mistaking the American army fatigues.He was trained to know what each country's soldiers wore, and he knew them all too well.Still Zechs blinked in an attempt to clear his vision, believing, or hoping to believe, that it had been some trick of the eye, some prank of the sunlight that filtered haphazardly through the canopy of leaves and blossoms around them.

Abruptly, she turned around, white-faced and stricken, wrenching herself from the man's arms.As the car passed, he knew that she could not see him, and he watched as those familiar sea-green eyes followed the vehicle.The rage and betrayal that invaded his heart was total and complete.In those eyes he had failed to see the sweet child he had known.All this time he had protected her, having to all but sell his soul to the Reich and to Treize, committing himself to the acts of war and destruction that would forever stain his hands. 

"This is how you would repay me, sister?"

They drove on for quite some time, but Zechs didn't notice when the car had finally come to rest at the Manor's main entrance. This was not Milliardo Peacecraft's homecoming.Milliardo Peacecraft no longer existed, he told himself as he exited the Mercedes.

Standing before the entrance, Zechs placed his officer's cap on his head.He was SS Colonel Zechs Merquise, the Lightening Count.He was to be feared.He cared for nothing and no one. Glancing up at the carved marble over the doorway, he fought to convince himself that it was true.He set his jaw and waited while Noin and the other members of the entourage gathered behind him, and squaring his shoulders, stepped over the threshold.Milliardo was dead and Zechs had come in his place - cold and hard as the white stone above the door…

******

Duo whistled and heard the sound echo throughout the cavernous stone walkway underneath the castle."Man, this is unbelievable.I wonder where all these passages lead?" He craned his neck, twisting this way and that as if trying to see around corners and through walls.

"Well, Peygan said that this one goes directly from the basement to a hidden doorway in the wall just outside the princess's office.He said it would be the quickest route to the official throne room, and we could make it virtually undetected – sneaking in from the back of the guard station."

"Clever man, that butler.Told you he liked you, Quatre.I wonder if he can smell money in your blood or something."

"That's insulting, Maxwell.Be quiet and put on your uniform."Wufei said, shoving one arm into a blue jacket.

"I wonder if Heero found Miss Relena." Quatre struggled to unbutton the cuff on his shirt.

"Oh, I'm sure he did," Duo grinned, peeling off his issued uniform to exchange for their disguise."Wonder if he's gotten that kiss yet.Knowing him, though, I doubt it."

"You should have more faith in him than that.It may take him a while, but his feelings for her are genuine," Trowa observed.He was already fully dressed in the dark blue of the Sanq guard.

Wufei stiffened and stared at each of them in turn. "Genuine or not, her brother is still a Nazi soldier, and therefore our enemy,".

"But the princess is not our enemy." Quatre stopped dressing to frown disapprovingly at Wufei. 

"Maybe not now, but what do you think she's going to do when brother dearest gives her an ultimatum – turn over the American prisoners of war, or we'll bomb you to smithereens."Duo, now in the blue uniform as well, crossed his arms and shook his head.

"Is that why he's here?" Quatre asked sounding shocked at Duo's suggestion.

"That's my guess." 

"Yeah."Trowa looked from Quatre to Duo and nodded in agreement.

"She'll make the right decision," a voice called out from the mouth of the passageway, resonating hollowly to the chamber where they all stood.

"Oh, you're here," Wufei said without glancing up and continued dressing.

"And which one is the right one?"Trowa asked, raising an eyebrow at Heero, who was limping towards the group.

"To join the Allies."Heero replied, searching for a uniform.

"But Heero, the Lightning Count is her brother.How can you say joining the Allies is the right choice?It's not really a black and white issue," Quatre argued.

"Nothing ever is, but there is still a right and wrong to war."

"How so?"Trowa asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the stone wall of the passageway.

"There are right reasons to fight, and wrong reasons.The Reich fights as aggressors, taking over lands too weak to defend themselves as a conquest.They fight for superiority and for the sake of fighting.We fight to free those nations that have fallen, and to protect our own country.The Sanq Kingdom would fall more in line with our ideals than the Reich's."

"But you're being too logical.Women do not form alliances based on logic." Wufei scowled at the wounded soldier.

Duo grinned at his friend. "Where logic fails, her feelings for one soldier in particular will certainly bring her over to the right side of things."

"Hn."

"What, no shut-up, Maxwell?You're slipping, Yuy, or are you finally going to admit you care for her?"

"I'm choosing to ignore you.Hand me that uniform."

"What? No, Heero, you need to be resting," Quatre exclaimed.

"We have to get going.He's already here."Heero ignored the protests of the medic and began the tediously slow task of pulling off his uniform shirt, wincing with every movement that involved muscles on the right side of his body.

"You saw him?" Quatre asked.

"His car.I didn't see him, although I'm fairly certain he saw me."

"What do you mean?" Trowa asked, standing up from his more relaxed pose.

"He passed by the cemetery where Relena and I were…talking." Heero said through tightly clenched teeth as he reached his right arm back in pursuit of the jacket sleeve that was presently eluding him.

Duo shook his head and moved to help his friend. "Were you showing her how well you speak French?"

"Dishonorable!" 

"You speak French, Heero?" Quatre smiled at his patient.

"That was just Duo's clever way of asking if Heero was kissing her." Trowa replied, stifling a grin.

"Oh."

Heero pushed Duo away, and began buttoning his uniform. "No, I don't speak French.She had her hand on my forehead, to see if I was still feverish.I'm sure it looked friendlier than it was.Let's go." Heero turned and stomped out of the room.

Duo looked over at Trowa with a wide grin."Told ya."

Trowa reached in his pocket and pulled out another bill and slapped it in Duo's hand as he left the room.Quatre followed suit, also paying for his loss on what had become the standing bet.Duo chuckled and put the money away."You have entirely too much faith in him."

The young men trudged along the long corridor buried deep beneath the palace floor.It was still a bit of a walk, but nothing like what it would have been to maneuver the hallways existing above ground from one end of the castle to the other. 

As they neared the end of the tunnel, there was a flight of stairs leading up to the hidden exit just outside Relena's office.They could hear voices echoing from the room above them, and figured that they must be directly beneath her official quarters.

"Peygan, why do you think he's come back?" They heard the princess's normally firm voice quaver slightly with the question.

"I would assume, your highness, that it would be to discuss the future of the Sanq Kingdom's relations to Germany's new government."

Duo snorted."Gee, that was difficult to figure out."

"I think there's something more to it than that, Peygan.He would have written a letter if it was just to deliver bad news.He hasn't been home in almost nine years, not even…not even for father's funeral." She said in a low voice.There was a brief pause before they heard her voice again."There's something else, Peygan, I can feel it."

"Then I say go with your gut instinct, Miss Relena."

*** ***

The footsteps echoed in the corridor, at first sounding distant and ghostly, but as they neared, Relena began to feel them – the clicks of the boot heels rang in time with the beat of her heart, pounding loudly in her ears.She watched and waited, focusing on open doors of the Great Hall, never noticing the five extra "guards" that had slipped into the ranks beside the platform she stood upon.Relena couldn't help but feel dwarfed in the vastness of this place, her eyes drifting briefly upward to the wooden beams criss-crossing high above and holding the countless colorful banners that hung down and adorned the vaulted ceiling.The whitewashed walls held swords, shields and portraits of past monarchs who still watched over the affairs of the tiny country.The deep red carpet stretched out, lolling towards the pair of ornately carved doors that stood at the opposite end.

The footfalls outside ceased and two of the Sanq guards moved to open the massive wooden doors.They swung open lazily, unsuspecting of what lie in wait behind them. When her "guests" came into view, it was as if a cold breeze had swept through the room.The princess studied the soldiers from her vantage point as they filed into the Hall.Save for the distinction of the one woman among them, none of them were distinguishable from the next.They all wore the same frigid, tight-lipped emotionless expressions, walking stiffly in time with one another, moving ever forward with mechanical precision.When finally they reached the aisle, the group of German soldiers stopped.Relena's eyes roved over them, halting when one of the men in the front stepped forward. 

He walked alone from that point on and came to an abrupt stop in front of the platform at the end of the hall. The princess stepped down, moving just inches away from him, not able to speak as she fought to catch her breath. It was him… but at the same time, it wasn't…

His once sparkling and joyful blue eyes were steely and detached, as if ice had formed in the irises and continued to spread throughout his body. He was taller and seemed so much stronger, but in a fierce and brutal sense – not at all like their father's gentle and protective strength. The officer stood before her, rigid and silent – frozen at attention as if challenging his younger sister to find any trace of the brother she had once known, of the boy he had been. Relena shivered involuntary, and fought to keep her hand from trembling as she reached out for him.

"Milliardo," she whispered in a tone audible to no one but him. The cold, cruel eyes met hers and she studied them intently. She took yet another step closer, and with that, he made a sudden movement, raising his right arm as if he were reaching out for her as well. Relena relaxed, smiling as she prepared to embrace the brother she had missed for so long. But instead of falling into his sister's outstretched arms, the SS Colonel moved aside and glared at the young woman.

"Heil Hitler," he said sharply.

Relena's arms fell back to her sides.

***

Due to Rose's evil tendencies and this chapter's exhausting word count – no preview this time – sorry!!!

Stella:But Rose!I feel bad.I always do the preview!

Rose:Stella, not one word!

Stella:B-but…

Rose: That was one word!*starts dragging Stella away*

Stella: *yells from a distance*****Hilde's in ch. 5…


	5. Revelations: You may have her fooled, bu...

AN: We'd like to extend a hearty THANK YOU to Alexe for the totally awesome pic he drew for Veteran's Day based on our humble fic.  Please, I cannot say enough how truly gorgeous this work is, and how honored we all feel to be the beneficiary of his amazing talent.  You can view the work here:  http://www.btinternet.com/~reitaira/gw/flyer.htm .  I'm hoping to shrink the size down enough to upload it as my profile pic, too.  ^__^

We have decided to continue posting this fic and Missing by a Mile on Fanfiction.net until they are completed.  New fics, however, can be found at Blissful Ignorance, unless FFN miraculously manages to find my list of nice people subbed to my author alerts list.  I feel like they managed to wipe out a year's worth of work in a brief instant, and I was paying for the service just for the author alerts, really.  It's depressing, so I'm going to stop talking about it now.  Thank you for your continued readership, and your patience.    –the Black Rose

Enemy 5

Revelations

"Peace is not absence of war, it is a virtue, a state of mind, a disposition for benevolence, confidence, justice.."    

-Benedict de Spinoza

ACROSS ENEMY LINES

Chapter 5 - Revelations

Vienna, Austria - 1939

 Father was brilliant.  As a little girl she'd always thought so, especially when she crept downstairs and found him reading in the middle of the night – his small wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose as he sat entranced by some foreign history or old science book.  She would watch him in the glow of his reading lamp, the leaning towers of hardbound and well-worn scholarly volumes creating pillars on either side of his desk, causing him to resemble the tall figure of an ancient god in a temple that he had once shown her in a picture.  

Father was a tall man with a dark, close-shaved beard and black hair that matched her own.  His eyes were gray, always shining with kindness, and when he would see her peeking around the corner of his office doorway he would smile and sit back, waiting for her to run towards him and take her place on a small cushion at his side he reserved just for their late night lessons.  Father had shown her the world with his books - pictures of far away places, old and new.  He had traveled all over the world - he and mother before mother died - and when he would describe to her the market streets of Paris and the gleaming skyscrapers reaching to the heavens in America's New York City, she knew that she needed to see them someday for herself.  Hilde had been born in Germany, but Father had moved them to Austria when she was only a child to take a job as a professor.  She spent her summers between the two countries, but always dreaming of those lands that seemed so far away.     

Father taught her the languages until she spoke them better than his students at the university, English, French and so many others. They were neither rich nor poor; they were content to cook for themselves and take their daily walks through the park across the street.  Life was simple.  It was just the two of them, and they were happy.

But as she grew into a young woman, she noticed that Father sat less and less reading his books.  He would stand and stare out of their small kitchen window looking out on the city and watch the soldiers hang banners from the state buildings and hurl handfuls of papers from the rooftops.  Father saw their presence as an ominous cloud over the city, and she saw it, too.  

Bookshops, dancehalls and churches were immediately closed;  their school reading texts taken away. The officials of the new government piled them high in the public square and burned them like a sacrificial offering to their new leader. Friends she had known all her life were forced to sit in desks at the back of the room and wear stars on their coats.  Some of the older boys came to school dressed in uniforms with the unmistakable sign of the SS worn on armbands.  As she walked through the once-cheerful streets on her way home, she noticed that children no longer played together in open courtyards, no shop owners greeted her with a friendly hello as she passed by.  She barely recognized this city, it was a foreign land, but one unlike any in Father's books.

Before the Gestapo came, strange men would frequently ring their doorbell in the middle of the night, speaking in hushed voices and delivering small, paper-wrapped parcels.  Father barely left the house since they had closed his department of the university and dismissed all the professors that taught foreign subjects or were of Jewish descent.  Instead, he sat at his typewriter, keeping the blinds closed all day and waiting for the next night's visitor.

But one night, the typewriter was silent.  He sat looking through a slit in the blinds, and when she entered the room, he addressed her absently, never taking his eyes away from the street below.  

"Hilde, my darling, you must never say a word to anyone about what you see here, who you see here, do you understand?"

"Yes, Father, but wh-?"

He turned to her, and she took a step back, alarmed at much he seemed to have aged over just the last few months.  Streaks of gray now threaded through his coal black hair, and the lines around his eyes were carved much more deeply, draining away the life from his features.  "The world has gone crazy," he said to her, taking a package from his desk and moving to stand in front of her.  "Hitler cannot be allowed to stay in power, he is killing people everyday.  We must do what we can to stop him."

Hilde knew that Hitler controlled those responsible for all the terrible things that were happening.  But Father wasn't a soldier; he was a scholar.  "Father, I don't understand.  What can we do?"

"There is no time, my dear.  They are coming for me.  I want you to keep these papers safe for me.  Can you do that?  I want you to leave!  Run!  Go to the church at the end of the block and stay there - do not let anyone see you, and I beg you, do not come back until the morning."

"But, but Father!"  She felt the tears well in her eyes, but he forced the parcel into her hands and threw a coat over her shoulders.

"There is no time…"  

The words were barely a whisper, and he looked at her – the flesh around his eyes crinkling heavily as she saw tears gathering that mirrored her own - and held her close to him for what she knew would be the last time. 

"I love you, always remember that Father loves you.  Now you must go."

Hilde took one last glance as she made her way out the window.  Father had turned his back, as if unable to watch her departure.  He stood by his desk with a bowed head and hands clasped behind his back, once again amidst his beloved books, saying a silent good-bye to all things he held dear.   How very abruptly their life together had changed in the few months that had passed - changed forever..  Hilde felt her fingers slipping off of the windowsill, and she sank down onto the cold metal landing hinged to the side of the building.  She shivered in the chill of the night, breathing in the frigid air of loneliness.  "Good-bye, Father."

 She climbed down the fire escape, dropping silently into the small alley beside their building.  Hilde tucked the packet in her coat and tottered towards the street, struggling to make her trembling limbs move.  The roaring of a truck engine cut through the evening air, bringing with it an overwhelming sense of dread.  

The sound drew nearer and nearer, until the vehicle came into view, screeching to a halt in front of the door to her home.  She gasped and bit back tears as she waited for what would come next, somehow finding the presence of mind to flatten herself against the brick wall, masking her presence in the shadow of the fire escape ladder, and hide behind some trash can barrels.  A woman's voice barked out commands in the anxious night, "This is the last one – and get the others out of the truck!"

Three men were herded into the middle of the street, shoved and prodded by armed guards with rifles gleaming in the light of the streetlamps.  Hilde could see the sheen of blood and sweat marking the prisoners' faces, but still she recognized them:  Father's fellow professors, and the men who had come to the house so late on so many nights.  

A shuffling sound and the slamming of doors made the prisoners turn, and through the darkness, she could just make out the shadow of a figure being dragged into the street and stood up next to the others. She inched out from the safety of the barrels, trying to see all of what was happening.  She immediately regretted it when she saw how his body sagged, barely able to stand under his own power, he appeared to lean against one of the other men for support.  His glasses were broken, dangling from one ear, and fought to readjust them as he was forced to kneel with the line of men.  

Hilde wanted to scream, but the sound would not come from her paralyzed lungs and she could make no movement.  He was now a mere few feet away from her, on his knees in the cold damp street.  Father, who had always kept her warm and safe…  

"For conspiracy against the Führer, there is only one penalty.  Death."  A woman not much older than herself paced in front of the ragged men kneeling in the street.  Her long hair was tied up into tight buns behind her ears, and she pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose as she raised her head, addressing the onlookers who had opened their windows or come to their doors to see about all the commotion.  "Let them be an example to you," she shouted, her words cold and harsh – the tone that Hilde had come to associate with members of the SS.  "No one will escape the justice of the Reich!"  The woman delivered a swift kick to Father's abdomen, and he doubled over, spitting blood onto the pavement while the young Gestappo agent strode back to the line of soldiers, giving them a quick gesture with her hand.

Hilde watched her father pick himself up, not daring to a look behind.  Her mind screamed for him while the guns behind him were loaded and the soldiers stood at the ready. She remained frozen, only able to watch numbly as  Father bowed his head, and joined the other condemned men in the Lord's Prayer.

The verses echoed down the alley, the deep baritone of Father's voice reaching her ears while the tears flowed in unchecked streams down her cheeks.  Her lips moved automatically once they began.  

The soldiers took a step back.  

_Our Father, which art in heaven_

_Hallowed be they name,_

Four rifles were raised, their shadows stretching long over the men in street below.

_Thy kingdom come,_

_Thy will be done._

_On earth as it is in heaven._

A single shot fired, the first man in the line collapsed.

_Give us this day our daily bread_

_And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors_

Another rifle fired and only two remained.

_And lead us not to temptation_

But deliver us from evil 

The third bullet quieted the man beside him.  Hilde saw her father's slight flinch, but yet he continued, the words hollow and airy as he repeated them alone.

_For thine is the kingdom_

_And the power and the glory _

She remembered the last words he said.  "Remember that father loves you…"

For ever and ever 

The fourth shot…  

*          *          *          *          *

July 1944, the early morning hours before Zechs arrives in the Sanq

"Amen."  She leaned against a tree, stopping for rest and a quick prayer before making the attempt to cross the border.  The moon was now masked by heavy layers of clouds, blacking out the world and plunging the midnight forest into blinding darkness.  Her heart stopped with every crunch of the leaves beneath her feet, with every sway of the branches in the wind.  The sounds echoed a thousand times more loudly in her ears and she was certain that they had to hear.  Accompanied only by a packet of documents and the noise of her breath coming in short, nervous gasps while her eyes darted from side to side, she surveyed every trunk, bush and sapling, studying them in the shadows.  Their tall and dense shapes shifted in her exhausted mind's eye, becoming a group of German soldiers till she blinked, reassuring herself that she was alone.  The lights of the border checkpoint were visible just ahead, blaring through vegetation as if intent on searching her out.   Adjusting the messenger bag that dug into her shoulder, she veered away from the road, slipping farther into the safety of the woods, but pressing onwards – on toward the Sanq Kingdom.

Darlian's advice had been to do her best to look like a man – a woman traveling alone in these violent times wouldn't get very far - so she had shorn off her long, raven-hued hair, smudged her delicate features with dirt, and donned an old pair of trousers and a long overcoat.  The hope was that she wouldn't be noticed, or seen at all, let alone questioned.  If Nazis found the files and telegrams she was carrying, she would surely be killed on the spot… and all hope would then be lost.  But she'd taken risks before, and Hilde knew that this was the only way to finish what her father had started all those years ago.

            She moved from tree to tree, treating each as a milestone, gaining ground, inching closer and closer.  She noticed that she was nearly level with the lights of the border checkpoint – not far now…

And then there were voices.  At first their words were barely audible, a mere din carried on the unusually chilly breeze that cut through the woods.    But as she moved on, the sounds grew harsher, sharper, louder – and clearer.    Hilde stopped, left breathless and dizzy by the punch of fear landed to her brain when she saw them.  

They stood in a small clearing, cigarette smoke drifting lazily from the midst of their minute circle.  They seemed to be only shadows, a trio of silhouettes that didn't seem quite real in the misty hours just before dawn. Hilde shook her head, hoping, praying that she was simply imagining them there.  Perhaps they weren't real…  But the rifles strapped to their backs glinting in the last remnants of moonlight still visible through the thicket of trees…    She felt the air leave her lungs.  The guns were very real.

Holding her breath she slid behind the nearest tree, moving excruciatingly slow, but as silently as possible.  She could see that their attention had not diverted from their cigarettes and conversation about expecting a Colonel Zechs in a few hours, but it was not a time to breathe a sigh of relief.  Hilde knew she was just a few feet away from death.

  She hugged tightly to the coarse tree trunk, pressing her cheek against its grain and listening to the soldiers exchange stories of Zechs Merquise.  How he'd led bombing raids to Britain and tangled in the air over France.  How he'd never lost a fight, and never flinched at a suicide mission.  He was their hero, already a legend in their minds.  Blond hair, blue-eyes, unwavering and every inch a soldier -  he was Hitler's ideal made flesh.

Hilde had seen the Lightening Count once at a rally in Berlin, and had thought him to be very handsome, but he troubled her as well.  He had the same look about him as the woman who killed her father all those years ago - like he had a stake of ice through his heart.  

The messenger bag bit deep into her shoulder, and she made a slow and deliberate effort to shift it, unaware of the smaller tree standing right behind her elbow….  

SNAP!  The breaking branch cried out before hitting the leaves below, and Hilde felt an icy wave wash over her body as the blood drained from her face.  They had to have heard that.  Sure enough, the conversation ceased, cigarettes discarded and guns were drawn.

They whispered to one another in low tones, moving into a formation and heading right for her, heavy boots crunching like the steady march of death.  They were so close.  She could hear the sound of their breathing and the rustling of their uniforms.  The clicks of readied rifles sounded, and she closed her eyes, waiting…  "Father, I'm sorry."

A single gunshot fired and a small body fell to the forest floor, having been shot down as it started to run.  Blood oozed from the hold in its chest, watering the damp earth below.  One of the soldiers walked over and pushed against it with the tip of his boot and eyed it with some curiosity.  It had jumped out from behind the tree, having come out of nowhere.  The soldier had seen movement and fired.  The others gathered around.  

"Won't this be a story for your grandchildren," one joked, jabbing the other in the ribs.  Hilde opened her eyes and caught her breath, still hidden, but only inches away.

  "Stupid rabbit," he hissed, kicking at the animal that had unwittingly sacrificed itself for a higher cause, just in front of the tree where Hilde stood.

"Well, Heinrich, at least you won't have to say that you left the war without killing anything."

Heinrich picked up his casualty and began to walk with the others back to the checkpoint, their laughter ringing from farther and farther away until she was sure that they were gone.

            Hilde cautiously picked herself up, moving slowly and soundlessly to her feet.  She squinted passed the trees, making sure that the soldiers hadn't lingered, and moved to the next trunk.  She kept going, never looking back, keeping her eyes focused only on what lie ahead.  

Sensing the lights of the border way behind her now, Hilde lowered herself to the ground, limbs weak with fatigue.  A smile traced her features in the dark, a hand brushing away the perspiration on her forehead and running through disorderly and matted hair.  Her fingers grasped instinctively at the nape of her neck, finding nothing to push away as she sank to the soft forest floor.  Fighting against the urge to let her eyes close, she snapped her head up, letting the cool air fill her lungs.  "Wake up, Scheibeker," she silently commanded herself, lightly slapping each cheek as she rose shakily to her feet.

She glanced behind her and noticed the faint light of the pre-dawn sky stretching out from the east.   But for now, at least the moon had emerged from it's smoky curtain, once again illuminating the earth – shining through patchwork of leaves above and leading the lone girl back towards the road, and on to Peacecraft Manor.

*          *          *

-Later That Day-

Heero was never one to believe in something as ridiculous as love at first sight.  However, if there was such a thing as hate at first glance, it occurred the moment he saw Milliardo Peacecraft salute Hitler in his sister's presence – her arms stretched outward in a gesture of affection towards her exiled older sibling.  

He saw the look on her face, the way her limbs fell to her sides with a helpless air, and one filled with disappointment and grief.  Whatever hope she had held of seeing her brother – the one whom she had spoken of so fondly only the night before – crumbled in that moment.  He could see that so clearly written on her face; how could that heartless bastard not realize it?  He continued to seethe inwardly as the man began to speak in a curt, clipped tone.

"I see the intelligence reports I received were correct.  A few of our bombers strayed off course and were effectively lost in the cloud cover of the area."

_Bull shit.  Don't fall for it, Relena._

The princess didn't meet her brother's gaze, choosing instead to stare at a point beyond him as she kept her shoulders stiff and straight with pride.  Heero could see the tense lines around her eyes and mouth and the way her hands wrung themselves behind her back. She was definitely not buying the explanation.

"Lost.  Yes.  I see." She turned away from the enemy and took a few steps toward the door, then paused as if remembering something.  She turned her head to level a glare in her brother's general direction.    "You're dismissed, Colonel, unless there was something else your führer wished to relay to the people of this nation and its sovereign."

Heero smirked.  Her words were, as always, soft spoken and sincere, but to those that knew her and the situation, there was a subtle undercurrent of hostility unnatural to her usual good humor.  _She's no longer blinded by a love for her brother.  _

The message was not lost on its intended recipient, either.  Ice blue eyes flashed in anger at his sister's retreating figure, his pale features turning a dark and contemptuous red.  A low hiss sounded from between razor thin lips, barely audible over the steady pound of footsteps.

            "Yes, your highness."  Zechs Merquise spun on his heel and with a smart snap of his cape, stalked out of the room - his many officers behind him.

            *                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

Heero emerged from the tense meeting, his eyes traveling the hall for a sign of which direction the princess had taken.  A heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder from behind, an instant before a familiar voice buzzed in his ear.

"Some show, eh buddy?"

Heero didn't respond to Duo's statement.  He was concerned about Relena; he knew how devastated she must have been by the meeting with her brother and it brought two things to mind.  The first and most irrational thought was that she'd maybe let him hold her again like she had that morning – the faint smell of her hair in the summer breeze tickling his nose as her warm breath fell on his cheek….  

When he successfully pushed that thought aside, the other, more logical idea came to light – that this was a good time to approach her about fighting with the Allies.  She had seen what her brother really was, and knew he and the Reich were lying to her, with a little persuasion….

"Helloooo, anyone home?" Duo waved his hand in front of Heero's face.  The wounded soldier glared up at his friend.

"What?"

Duo took a step back.  "Sheesh.  Sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.  I was just asking what you thought of the little homecoming in there.  No need to get fussy."

            "Hn."  Heero's eyes strayed down to the other end of the hallway where Zechs appeared to be carrying on a conversation with a subordinate female officer.  She smiled faintly up at her superior before he turned towards Relena's official quarters.  Instantly, the desire to intrude flared up, consuming the oxygen in his lungs and leaving him short of breath. Duo followed Heero's gaze and then threw a mischievous smile up at his comrade.

"I know where we can listen in."  Cobalt blue eyes danced as he suddenly had his friend's undivided attention.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Knuckles rapped firmly against the solid oak of Relena's office door, a split second before the panel was thrust aside and that once familiar, now deceiving figure entered the room.  His pale blond hair fell in a shower of white gold; aquamarine eyes as hard as stone burned through the stillness, branding her skin with his rage.  But she was angry, too.

"Milliardo."

Her posture was rigid, and his name sounded foreign to him, especially in the tone she used.  It was formal, affectionless.  Even through his rage he had hoped for something more.

"Relena, there is one more thing that I must…request on behalf of the führer."

She stiffened, but replied diplomatically.  "In the interest of keeping peaceful relations between our nation and that of Germany, I will hear your request.  But I want the truth of what happened last night."

He shut the door slowly as if seeking to delay the explanation, and kept his back to her when he answered.  "There was nothing I could do." His head was bowed slightly as he continued to stare at the door.

"Nothing you could do?  You promised, and I believed you.  I have done everything I could to keep the Sanq kingdom out of this war, and…."

He whirled around, prowling towards her like a caged tiger.  "Everything you could do.  Is that what you call taking in refugees and prisoners of war – everything you could do?  Is that how you show your thanks to me for protecting you and this..this kingdom?"

"And what should I have done?  Let the Reich murder them like so many sheep sent to their slaughter?"

"They are the enemy."

"Who?"

"Those…" He ground his teeth as the image of his sister in the arms of an American soldier taunted his mind.  "Prisoners of war – the ones you took from our soldiers when they crossed the border into this territory."

Her glare met his eyes this time. "This nation.  We are not now, nor will we ever be a German territory.  I would rather die than see it fall victim to the devastation Hitler has wrought on the lands around us."  

"Dying is the cowards way out."

"And so is running away."

He flinched.  She seemed to know exactly where he was most vulnerable. Well, two could play at that game.  

"Relena….I won't be able to protect this nation or you so long as you continue to openly disobey the Reich's authority."

Her whole body went cold at that statement, dread pricking her skin like the tips of a thousand needles. "And that means what?"

"You will hand over the prisoners of war to me, and I will take them…"

Her heart froze in mid-contraction, squeezing sharply in her chest – she had heard the stories, no one went to those places and lived.  They died, and they died horribly and needlessly.  "To a death camp.  No, absolutely not.  I will do no such thing."

She watched her brother's face harden with rage. "You would sign the death warrant of your people for that…that man I saw you with this morning!"

Her hands slammed down on the desk, supporting her weight as she unconsciously leaned forward. "That man saved my life last night when your forces, your bombers attacked this nation and its people."

"He is still the enemy."

"Heero may be your enemy but he is not mine." She stood up, turning away as she folded her arms against her chest, her heart pounding, echoing in her ears.

"Heero." The name slid like venom from the space between her brother's tight lips. "And what promises has this Heero made to you that you turn against your own brother, your own family?"

"Promises? I don't understand." She turned a blank face back towards her brother, and saw the murderous rage darkening his eyes.  Fear grabbed her as he began to speak, sinking its cold teeth into the flesh of her neck. 

"I'm sure they must be sweet, filled with the assurances of love." Malice dripped like heavy syrup from every word.  "And you, a naïve girl who knows nothing of the lies men tell…."

"He has made no promises to me, nor any declarations of affection.  You're wrong…."

"Am I?  Then why is it I saw you with your arms around him just outside our family graveyard?  You invite any stranger…."

"He is not a stranger.  And he had just arrived when you drove by.  He was concerned, the others sent him to check on me."

"Concerned.  That didn't look like concern, it looked like an American flyboy putting the moves on my sister."

"He's been ill, I was merely checking to see if his fever had diminished."

"You're lying.  That's not what I saw."

Relena had been retreating and on the defensive while her brother hurled accusations at her like gunfire.  But she had no reason to run. She lifted her head and met his gaze, squaring her shoulders with defiance.  "Then your eyes are exceedingly better than the rest of your fighter pilots' who apparently cannot see their targets."

"Do not change the subject.  He's playing you for a fool.  You don't know their reputation. Those American flyboys are notorious for seducing women everywhere they go, leaving behind broken promises and illegitimate children."

"Stop it! He's not like that."

"You don't know him."

"I know all I need to."

"And how much is that? Does he have a wife and family waiting for him at home?  Or perhaps he doesn't tell you about them."

"Even if he did have a wife and family, it wouldn't change my feelings.  I would still be determined to protect him, to protect them, and see them return safely to the people that wait and pray for their safekeeping."

"Your feelings.  Your feelings are foolish if you would put your kingdom and yourself in jeopardy for some…some…coward that hides behind your skirt.  That is why they are concerned for you, that is why he protected you."

"That is quite enough."  She didn't believe that, wouldn't believe that – he didn't know them. "You're nothing but a meal ticket and a political shield…."

The knife stuck this time, making its mark in her skin as her brother's poisonous words stung her flesh.  She lashed out, biting back the tears that betrayed her when she needed anger. "It doesn't matter what I am to them.  I will not hand them over, and that is my final decision."

"You are making a mistake, dear sister."

She drank in air and tried to calm her racing pulse. "In your opinion, perhaps, but not in mine."

"Your judgment is faulty."

"My judgment is not based on arrogance and deceit."

"Your judgment is not that of a rational adult who has the best interest of her people in mind, but rather the adolescent crush…."

She winced; this time the knife struck her heart. "It is not some crush!"

"Now you deny that you have feelings for this Heero?"

"I do not deny it.  Not to you or anyone.  It is not a crush, Milliardo." She took a deep breath before uttering the words she had, till now, been afraid to say.  "I love him…."

"More than your own brother."

She stiffened at his words, but somehow she had always known he would make her choose. "More than the man who bears the name but not the resemblance of my brother.  I love him, and I promised I would do everything I could to protect him.  ." She closed her eyes as her heart spilled onto the floor.

"I no longer bear the name Peacecraft," he spat.

"Well, brother…  I do…"

"Keep it then.  You are indeed your father's daughter."

She looked up at him as he turned to leave.  Her heart ached for him to understand.  "I will not break my promise, no matter what Heero's feelings are for me."

"Then you truly are a fool."  

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Duo let out a low whistle.  The sound echoed strangely in the stone passageways below.  "Man, I have to say, ya gotta respect a woman like that."

"Hn.  I suppose.  But perhaps she wouldn't be so quick to defend us if she wasn't in love."  Wufei scowled across the room at where Heero stood, arms crossed, head down - revealing nothing.

"No way, man, did you hear the barb about the eyesight? That was rough.  Not that he didn't deserve it, of course, but…hey, Heero.  Why didn't you tell us you two were smooching out by the graveyard this morning, you sly dog."

"Duo, let it alone.  No one said they were kissing." Trowa intervened in a quiet voice, his eyes trained on the closed figure to his right – waiting to see what Heero would give away of his emotions.

Quatre lifted his eyes and set them on the man against the wall. "What are you going to do, Heero?  I mean she…she said…"

Movement – the injured soldier recoiled, uncrossed his arms, and sent a glare towards the annoying medic. "I heard what she said, Quatre.  We all heard it.  It doesn't mean anything."

"What are you, nuts?  The classiest, most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and I know you couldn't have possibly found one better, just said she's in love with you and probably saved all our lives, and you say it means nothing?" Duo blurted out without thinking. A feeling of remorse for the outburst instantly burned in his cheeks, and he started to apologize until he saw Heero stand up from the wall and turn away.  Guilt died, and anger quickly burned in its wake.  "You're a stupid fool!"

Heero moved towards the doorway, lost in his own boiling rage.  His pulse thrummed down his arms into his tightly clenched fists, his eyes narrowed as he stalked up the steps towards the exit.  Zechs Marquise may be her brother, but that didn't give him the right to speak to her that way, or accuse her of inappropriate behavior.  The accusations against him were hardly true, but they were but the handle on the cold knife of fury that pierced his soul.  

I won't be able to protect this nation or you so long as you continue to openly disobey the Reich's authority…

"Heero, where are you going?" Quatre called out from somewhere behind him.

He froze in mid-step, his heart racing and throbbing like a swollen, open wound.  He took a deep breath and turned to face his comrades.  "If he can't protect this country, I can."  He exited the room.

"Wha-?"  Duo scowled and started after his friend, but an arm shot out and grabbed his shoulder, preventing his pursuit.

"Let him go, Duo," the communications officer said.

"But what kind of an idiot…"

Trowa's lips curved into a small smile.  "I think that's as close as he'll get to saying he loves her, too."

Duo stared at him a moment, then lifted a hand to run through his bangs.  "Oooh.  Heh."  He shook his head.  "Well, I don't suppose anyone would ever accuse him of being a hopeless romantic."

"Well, it is kinda sweet…in a way." Quatre smiled.

"Now if he'd said that if Zechs couldn't protect her, then he could, then that would have been…."

"Completely unlike Heero," Trowa finished the sentence.

"Ah well, I suppose you're right, but at least we have you to translate for us, Trowa."

"No problem."  He cocked his head slightly to the right, his left eye catching the light, lending it a wicked gleam.  "Perhaps I'll even win back some of my money."

"Ha! Not a chance, Barton.  Not a chance."

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Relena's cheeks burned with her brother's pronouncement.  Perhaps she was foolish to love a man she barely knew, but it was a chance her heart was all too willing to take. "I would rather be a fool than what you have become, Milliardo.  I would be a fool a thousand times to feel love and pain and joy and loss.  I would gladly risk my life, my heart, than walk the earth a ghost of a man, too afraid, too cowardly to live."

She saw the hurt flash in his eyes and then it was gone.  Again he turned away from her but stopped at the door, his head bowed low as if broken by her words. "And that is what you think of me?"

She swallowed against the changing tide of emotion.  He looked so…lost. "I don't want…I didn't…." She remembered the day he left – her only friend, her advisor, her hero – and felt sorrow for all the years of separation they had known.  She had looked up to him and cherished him like she never had her father.   "But you have been so cold, so hateful, so unlike the sweet brother I remember."

"I have died a thousand deaths to protect you and this land, and when I saw you in the arms of my enemy…."

"You have been angry with me then, all this time."

"You have betrayed me."

"I have not.  He is not fighting, not injuring your armies.  He and his friends are refugees in this land, and have not been in contact with their former units.  Heero especially has been too ill to leave; another lost his brother at the hands of their captors.  We buried him in the official cemetery…." She looked down at her hands, and lowered her voice. "What you saw, as I tried to explain before, was something completely harmless.  I am sorry that it upset you so, brother. It was not my intention.  I had hoped that things would go differently today; I haven't seen you in so long."  

His heart unfroze at the sound of pleading in her voice.  She was still in there, his little sister whom he adored and endured countless humiliations to protect.  And she still loved him, still sought his approval and affection. "I….Your apology is accepted.  Please accept mine for my behavior as well."

"Oh Milliardo…." She moved around the desk and approached him as if to embrace him, but he backed away.  He could almost feel her confusion and hurt at his actions, but he had failed her, and she should know that truth before offering forgiveness.

"I will do what I can, Relena.  But I fear it will not be enough."

"I understand.  And I thank you for what you have done for all this time." 

Forgiveness, she forgave him for his weakness, though he could not forgive himself.  He turned to face her, to take her into his arms at last, but she had something else to say. 

"Please, if you can do nothing else, convince them to leave the refugees here alone.  They aren't causing any harm."

She would plead for the life of the enemy.  Yes, only his sister would be capable of loving both sides – neither could ever be her adversary. "I will try, on one condition."

"Ye-yes?"

His eyes narrowed.  "I want you to stay away from this Heero…."

"Milliardo, he's staying in the castle, he needs medical care.  I can't…."

He set his jaw. "You don't want to."

"No, I don't want to.  Perhaps…perhaps if you met him…." 

His head came up and he eyed her wearily. "Hn."

"You'd realize that he's not what you think.  He's kind and, I…"

_Kind?  Yes, he must be to capture your heart, dear sister – or is it just that you've been alone so long…. Is it my fault for leaving you with too large a burden that you seek out the first man who shows you kindness?_  He sighed.  _A good soldier always knows his enemy._  

"For you, sister, I will meet him.  I suppose I should thank him as well."

"Thank him?"

He nodded once, his eyes straying to the floor. "When I failed, he protected you.  I should thank him."

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his chest, drawing him into a long overdue embrace. "Thank you, Milliardo." She breathed into the fabric of his uniform.  "And welcome home. I have missed you."

He returned the hug and held her close, remembering with pain the last time he had done so. It had been far too long.

Welcome home… 

            *                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

            Heero paced back and forth in the hallway.  It had sounded like the enemy was leaving, and so he had come to meet him – with his fist.  The heels of his shoes tapped firmly against the dark mahogany wood that sculpted the floor into rich, shiny lengths, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.  

            Your feelings are foolish if you would put your kingdom and yourself in jeopardy for some…some…coward that hides behind your skirt.  

            He couldn't fight out there, right now, but he could definitely relieve the Reich of one of its officers.  His jaw clenched against the dull ache in his side.  He spun on his heel, changing the direction of his incessant pacing once more.

            The sound of the door opening halted him in his tracks.  He whirled around, muscles taut, his body poised for attack.  But the tension and blinding rage evaporated when he saw her face.

            "Heero!" 

            He took a step toward her, one hand rising from his side to touch her, to make certain she was real….  

            The door swung wide, revealing an up close look at the pale, marble-like features of the enemy.  Heero's whole body railed into a stiff posture of military attention; his face and eyes hardened into stone. 

            "Heero, th-this is my brother, Milliardo Peacecraft.  Milliardo, I'd like you to meet U.S. Army Captain Heero Yuy."

            Milliardo watched the scowl overtake the young man's features, the mutual hatred hanging in the air as neither man moved to greet the other.  The thought was absurd, they were enemies; what was his sister thinking?  But she had professed to loving this..man, and he had safeguarded her.  Zechs could respect him for that, and the way he glared at his known enemy with a protective eye for Relena.  

            Hn. He likes me about as much as I like him.  But why does he want to protect her?  Have you asked him, dear sister?

            "I, it's about time for lunch.  I took the liberty of having Peygan…."

"Yes, Miss Relena?"

"Oh.  Peygan, could you please set four places at the table in the formal dining room for lunch?"

            "Yes, Miss Relena." Peygan bowed and took his leave.

            "Four?" Milliardo broke the razor sharp silence between the two men.  "Who is joining us, dear sister?"

            "I thought that perhaps your personal assistant would like to eat with us, and I was about to invite Captain Yuy to stay for lunch.  Heero?"

            "I need to speak with you."

            "Yes?"  She smiled warmly, though her eyes darted somewhat nervously between her brother and Heero, who spoke to her through clenched teeth.

            "Alone."

            "Oh.  Milliardo, I will join you and Miss…Miss…?"

            "Noin."

            "Miss Noin in the dining room in just a moment." She stepped aside to let Heero pass into her office.  "Heero."

            He nodded at her then brushed passed the elder Peacecraft into Relena's official quarters.  Venomous ice blue eyes followed their every move until she had safely tucked the door in its frame and left it behind her.  The heavy wood dampened all sound from the room.  Zechs would gain no insight into just what they were discussing, but it wasn't hard to guess what would be at the heart of their conversation.

            With a last withering glance thrown as if it could burn through the door, he turned and strode down the hall to where Noin was waiting.         

_I'll be damned if I let you turn my sister, and my homeland against me._

_*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *_

"What is it, Heero?"

Her eyes were still that soft blue, nothing had changed in them since her admission.  She was not, in the least, ashamed of the way she felt for someone who was really unworthy of such a noble, unselfish emotion.  

Even if he did have a wife and family, it wouldn't change my feelings… 

He shook his head and remembered the strange, icy, yet burning sensation that gripped him when he saw Relena in Duo's arms, dancing.  He scowled at the memory.

"Heero?"

His attention snapped back into the moment.  She was looking at him, eyes searching his face, his soul, for something…he wasn't sure what.

"Relena, your country is unprotected, defenseless.  You need to join…."

"The Allies.  Heero, you know I can't do that."

"You have to.  Your brother can't protect you, and Germany will easily obliterate Sanq if you don't raise an army and join with those who can defend your kingdom."

He stopped.  She was staring at him, with guileless blue eyes set in an unreadable expression.  He frowned.  "Relena?"  Pink tinged her cheeks as he took a faltering step towards her.  She dropped her eyes to the ground.

"You heard my brother tell me he couldn't protect me."

His heart dropped into his stomach.  He had given himself away, and admitted to overhearing not only her brother's words, but hers as well.

I love him… 

He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath.  "Yes."

"Heero?" Her voice, usually so firm, so soft, escalated, trembling in its execution.  His eyes flew open as she chose that moment to look up and meet his gaze.  If he thought that he had some control over this, these feelings she stirred within him, that he could remain indifferent somehow until she came to her senses and realized how meaningless and insignificant he was, then he had made a grievous miscalculation in judgment.  He felt himself being drawn to her like a magnetic force, or something stronger.  A gentle whisper brushed his ear, trickling into, but not registering in his mind.  "I..I can't fight against my brother." 

She stood still in front of her desk as he quickly closed the distance between them – taking the last step to place their lips just inches from one another.  She glanced down at her hands, as if studying them for imperfections.  He frowned; he wanted her to look at him.

"Relena…" His hand came up to cup her chin, tilting it up to where she had to meet his gaze once more.

"You heard…. Heero, I don't want you to feel obligated, it's okay if you don't feel the same for me."

He just stared for a moment, his eyes searching…. He felt his hand tremble under her chin, his heart tumble to her feet, his voice falter as he spoke words not previously approved by logic.  "Relena…I don't…." He leaned closer, his lips hovering above hers as he flailed and grasped for words in a ferocious current of emotion threatening to drown him. "I don't have…anything…you could possibly want."  His expression changed to a pleading look, wanting her to understand that she deserved better; she shouldn't love him.

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, and she brought a hand up to his cheek, brushing back wayward strands that never stayed where they should.  "You're wrong." Her voice was gentle, a soft caress so like that of her hand.  

I do not deny it, not to you or anyone.  I love him.

He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and prepared to battle the sweeping tide.  He bent his head forward, his lips whispering against her jaw line and tracing hazy patterns towards her mouth….

A loud knock sounded at the door the same time Peygan swung it open in a swift movement that seemed unlikely for a man his age.  Heero dropped his hand from her chin and took a step back, shoving both fists deeply into the pockets of his uniform pants.  The butler threw him a narrowed-eyed glance that if Heero wasn't mistaken, screamed his disapproval.  

Peygan cleared his throat.  "Miss Relena, my apologies for interrupting, but the afternoon meal has been prepared and is ready to be served.  Your guests are waiting."

"Thank you, Peygan.  You're dismissed."

"Yes, Miss Relena."  He closed the door slowly behind him.

"Will you join me for lunch?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Heero, please…I understand your dislike of my brother, but I keep hoping….  Heero, just this once, I guarantee I'll never ask you again to sit down to a meal with an SS Colonel.  Have lunch with me, and then we can finish our…conversation – about your concerns over this country's defense."

"You'll consider it?"

"I've been considering it, since you first mentioned it to me.  Anything that important to you….So, you'll have lunch?"

Heero nodded once, a method of acknowledgement or consent depending on the context.  She smiled up at him, and then reached out to grab his left elbow.  He raised an eyebrow at how she folded her arm through his, though it wasn't from dislike – just…surprise.

He led her from the room, a princess escorted by a nameless soldier.  It seemed far too good to be true, and Heero knew that around the corner from every moment of happiness lurked something sinister, dangerous, or despairing.  This one's name was Zechs Merquise.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

They entered the formal dining room where Zechs and Miss Noin stood waiting.  Heero didn't miss the black look the enemy shot in his direction – no doubt from the way she held onto his arm.  He led her to her seat, pulling out the chair at the head of the table for the princess.  She smiled up at him with more than appreciation lighting her cerulean eyes.  He nodded and took his seat to her left.

The meal passed in a thickly draped silence that hung like velvet curtains shutting out the daylight.  Relena politely attempted conversation with the other female in the group – her best chance at avoiding conflict, Heero noted.

"So, Miss Noin, what is it you do?  Are you an officer?"

"I am not…permitted to have such standing.  I'm an officer's assistant. I do things like typing and filing, and taking dictation."

The corners of her brother's mouth curled up in a wry smile, as if he were amused by the absurdity of his sister's question.  "No army would let women serve, Relena.  It's not their place.  There are certain roles…."

"I'm sure women shouldn't be ruling countries, either, and yet we are called upon to do such things."

"That's not what I meant."

"You don't want to rule your country?"  Heero spoke up, his dark blue eyes focused on her face as if there was no one else in the room.

"I didn't mean it that way, Heero.  I was trying to say that to define women's roles in such a limited way is unfair.  We are capable of more than we are often credited."  Her left hand slipped under the table and he felt it brush his forearm.  Soft fingers found his palm, and then slid up to intertwine with his own.  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and pressed her hand with his thumb.  She smiled.

Zechs watched the brief but intimate display with a nauseas stomach.  Rage bubbled beneath the meal they had just consumed and turned over, causing his blood to boil in his veins.  She openly displayed affection for the enemy and obviously didn't care what anyone – least of all her own brother – thought about it. And when had she gotten these ridiculous ideas about what women were capable of?  She was supposed to marry someone who could rule, not run the country on her own.  

He took a sip of his water, trying to douse the fire of resentment burning in his heart for this…this… parasite that was feeding her such ridiculous ideas.  His eyes raked over and studied the enemy, trying to judge Heero's behavior towards his sister and discern the supposedly ill army captain's true objective. 

The enemy was steel set in stone or plain concrete – tough but not distinctive or refined like granite or marble.  He was common, and only a captain, so he hadn't entered as an officer, which meant he couldn't be particularly intelligent.  But he was a captain, so he had risen through the ranks fairly quickly, judging by his youth.  

            His dark blue eyes reflected none of the love Relena proclaimed for him, so he was humoring her for a reason. Was it something basic like his libido, or something more sinister like convincing her to turn against Germany and her brother?  Worse yet, perhaps he thought he could be the new ruler…_Hn, not likely, if he's been telling her she can run it on her own._

            Feminine voices floated around his sense of consciousness as he glared daggers at the enemy across the table, trying to read his mind.  His musings were interrupted when Peygan entered the room in a quick if hectic movement and called loudly to his employer.

            "Miss Relena, there's a telephone call for you in your office.  The man claims it is of the utmost urgency, and will not disclose his name to anyone other than yourself."

            The princess's eyes widened at the message, and she shot up from her chair.  The others stood out of respect, Heero still struggling a bit with his injury.  She turned to smile apologetically at her brother and Noin.  "I'm sorry.  I should think this would take but a brief moment, but please continue the meal without me."  

            She turned and started toward the door where Peygan waited, but she found forward progress halted when a hand clamped down sharply on her arm, tugging her back into the room.  

            "I should go with you." Heero spoke in a quiet voice laced with concern as several possible scenarios flooded his mind.  _Is it a lover?  Official business? Either one should be my business, or…damn…._ Her hand came up to cover the one still grasping her arm.

            "Heero, I'll only be a moment."  He nodded and let go, then watched as she quickly exited the room.  Peygan shot him another withering look before following the princess out into the hallway.  He had barely turned back around before Zechs's hostile baritone snarled across the table and opened fire.

            "In most nations on earth, the sovereign of a country is treated with dignity and respect.  She deserves no less from you."

            Heero didn't even acknowledge that the enemy had spoken.  He kept his eyes focused on the wall to his left, completely ignoring the other presences in the room.  The warning shot had been fired.  Now the onslaught began.

            "I don't appreciate the way you manhandle my sister."

            Fists were shoved into pockets, but his eyes never lifted from their target.  Zechs maneuvered his cannon and took aim once again.  

            "You may have her fooled, but I know what you're up to, and I'll be damned if I let you turn my homeland and my sister against me!"

            Dark blue eyes slashed through the static air to clash with the enemy's battery.  The two stood glowering at one another for a brief instant before Heero returned fire.  "It's not your homeland."

            Rage contorted Zechs's face, and the blond man turned away as if to gain control of his emotions.  Heero let out the breath he had been holding, trying to keep calm in the face of a confrontation that was so blatantly stacked against him.  With logic now firmly seated once again, he knew he couldn't fight with his injury still sore and causing intermittent fevers – the stitches were still weeks away from being removed.  He hated feeling so vulnerable.

            The air whipped around him and a lightning bolt slammed into his jaw, knocking him to the floor without even the time to cry out.  He struggled to regain his feet, his side throbbing in protest at the activity.  The enemy jerked him up by his neck, just before he was thrown like a rag doll and rammed backwards into the dining room table.  

The china shrieked in protest.  It splintered into thousands of jagged pieces that bit into his shoulder even through the fabric of his shirt.  Zechs's hands crushed his throat, and his lungs burned from lack of oxygen.  He was dimly aware of a female voice pleading for someone to stop….

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            The door to the formal dining room was closed, which was odd.  Duo hadn't seen anyone eat in there since they had arrived in Sanq.  He wondered briefly where Heero had gotten off to, and whether his romantically challenged friend had finally scored his kiss.  

            "He's way too uptight about things." Duo shook his head and kept walking down the hallway, when the sound of a familiar, hated voice crawled through the crack beneath the door.

            "I'll be damned if I let you turn my homeland and my sister against me!"

            Duo froze, his eyes widening as he spun around to go back to the room.  As he turned the knob, an earsplitting crash sounded from within the room - shaking people from their burrows like so many ants in an ant farm. 

            He threw open the door, but didn't have time to calmly assess the situation.  His friend was in trouble.  Duo's eyes narrowed with hatred as he charged across the room.

            "Zechs, please, your sister wouldn't want you to…." Noin's voice was lost in the thick of the battle as the SS Colonel continued to chortle his enemy.  Heero's hands sought to loosen the ones around his neck, but he was making no progress.  His left one moved away, straining to find something on the table to use to his advantage.  

            Groping and bunching up the tablecloth, Heero kept trying to breathe, though the room was starting to spin from a burning lack of oxygen.  His fingers finally came up with something solid – a serving tray.  He grabbed it up and with the last bit of strength he had left, swung it in a vicious movement, smashing it into the right side of Zechs's head.  The older man staggered back from the blow, releasing the injured soldier.  Heero gasped for air and tried to stand up, the room moving underneath him, however, wasn't making it easy….

            Duo pounced on the stunned man, grabbing him underneath the shoulders and trying to restrain him.  Zechs shook his head, stumbled forward, and tried to shake the American off.  Heero's face was purple and he looked like he was in danger of passing out. Duo knew he couldn't let go of the enemy….

            "I'm going to kill him.  And I'll kill you, too!" Zechs shouted as he wrestled with the man trying to restrain him.  Maxwell held fast, but could tell the SS officer was stronger – he knew that he couldn't hold him much longer.

            With a battle cry of, "What the hell?" Wufei entered the room and quickly joined his comrade in trying to subdue Zechs.  Heero leaned heavily on the table, still gasping for air.  Duo had never been so happy to see the terminally angry Chinese man in his life.  The two allies managed to get the enemy under control, each grabbing an arm and forcing it behind his back – twisting just enough to make it painful if he tried to fight them.  The Colonel's muscles went slack in their grips.

            The distinct, rapid clicking of heels on the hard wood floors announced the princess's arrival, and the two American soldiers turned their heads instinctively toward the dining room entrance, expecting her to appear any second.  Heero pushed himself away from the table with some effort, having recovered a bit, and trying not to look weak….

            The Lightning Count lurched forward, flipping Duo to the ground with a loud thud, then whipped around to smash his fist into Wufei's unsuspecting face.  He seized the collar of Heero's jacket and thrust him towards the door, turning as he did so to deliver a brutal blow.  He connected with the fighter pilot's wounded side; sparks flashed before his eyes as all the air left his lungs, and pain seared his entire body.  A choking sound bubbled up from the wound, escaping through his lips as he tried to remain standing despite the blinding ache.

            He blinked, reopening his eyes to see that Wufei and Duo once again were grappling with Zechs.  He drank in some air, and stumbled forward, trying to summon strength enough to strike back.  Instead a hand came to rest on his arm, holding up his fist as he felt another go around his waist.  He leaned into the welcome support.

            "I can't let you hurt my brother, Heero," Relena said in a quiet voice, looking at him with deep creases of concern etched on her face.  He felt her stiffen beneath the additional weight she was trying to support, and briefly, he wondered if she really thought him capable of fighting in his current state.  As she slowly lowered his arm to his side, and he saw her make a motion towards someone behind him at the door, he realized that she had always referred to him as being ill in the presence of her brother – not injured.  If he had the energy, he would have smiled at her, instead, he watched as her brother was led from the room by the Sanq guards she had summoned.

            "Quatre," the princess called to the man just inside the doorway.  "Please, get Heero to bed, and check his injury.  Let me know if there's anything else that needs to be done – if you require more supplies, or a doctor…."

            "I'll be fine," Heero croaked.  He was ghastly pale, and his eyes had that glazed over look again.

            "Get him something for the pain, too," she instructed the medic before turning to speak softly to the man she loved.  Her hand rested on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to just feel her touch as he tried to block out the pain.  "I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry…."

            Heero grimaced but nodded; he frowned as if trying to concentrate on what she was saying to him.  "Please understand, what I did…"

            "I know," he bit out through clenched teeth.  "I told you, I'll be fine."

            Quatre and Duo moved to take over supporting the injured soldier as Relena disentangled herself from him and stepped towards the door.  "Please, take care of him."

            "We will, your highness.  He'll be all right."

            "Thank you, Quatre," she said with a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes.  With a last worried glance, she stepped out of the room, and headed back to her office.  

            _"I'm so sorry, Heero…It's all my fault."_

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            The trio of soldiers walked in silence through the cold, stone passageway, set on retrieving the clothing they'd exchanged for the guard uniforms they were now wearing.  Each was replaying the events of just a few minutes ago in their minds, seeing the image of Zechs with his hands tightened around Heero's throat.

"For once, I think Maxwell's actually speechless."  Wufei's voice broke the stillness and echoed through the Manor's tunnels, it's tone not lost on Duo.

            "Is that you actually trying to make a _joke_, Wufei?" Duo replied with a roll of his eyes,  "Or did Zechs Merquise just hit you a little too hard and finally loosen that stick up your – Hey, what was that?"

            The men stopped and listened, each holding his breath and straining to hear… anything.  

            "There could be other people in the passages, Duo," Trowa offered, having heard nothing.  "The guards have their uniforms down here, and the servants probably use the tunnels as shortcuts."

            Duo turned around and nodded, not really able to see much of his green-eyed companion in the dark.  Up ahead, a few light bulbs were strung haphazardly along the wet stone walls, and as he turned around, the braided soldier was sure that he saw a shadow roll over the tunnel wall.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Relena reached for the doorknob then stopped, turned around and stepped back in the direction she had come.   _What will I say?  Why am I acting like a silly schoolgirl with a crush?  _She whirled around and held out a hesitant hand towards the door.

_He knows how I feel about him…he heard… _Her hand dropped down to her side.  _But what was I thinking in hoping they'd get along – my brother and my…what is he?  Who is he? _She turned away from the door again, her head bowed.  Perhaps Milliardo is right… _I'm such a fool…_ She stopped short as she collided with something…or rather someone.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Heero raised his head with effort from his pillow and squinted through the darkness at the door.  He could have sworn he had heard the firm tap of her heels just outside is room, and had expected her to appear by his bedside….  A deep voice cut through his thoughts, causing Heero to sit up more rapidly than he should.  He winced, but was trying to remain silent enough to hear the quickly warming conversation just outside his door.

"And just where do you think you're going – into his room at this hour of night."

Dread filled the pit of his stomach and he climbed painfully to his feet, throwing aside the bed covers as he made the effort to stand.  _"Zechs…"_

"I am going to pretend, brother, that you aren't insinuating anything by that remark – I am going to check on him as I do every night when you aren't around."

"Then why were you leaving just now?"

Heero's eyebrows shot up.  _"Leaving?"_

"If you must know, I was concerned, if he is still awake, what he would have to say to me after my brother brutally attacked him this afternoon."

"He was out of line…"

_"Like hell I was."_ He scowled and started towards the door.  If the enemy was still looking for a fight….

"In what way?" Her voice still held that firm timbre of command.  She wasn't backing down.

"The way he…I don't have to explain myself."

"And neither do I, brother."

_"You just lost, Zechs." _Heero smirked silently from his place near the door.  He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but they were standing right outside his room, and in a public hallway – they had no expectation of privacy.

"It is improper for you to be visiting his room at night, Relena.  It is not something…"

"I don't give a damn what is proper and what isn't.  There's a war going on, and bounds of propriety no longer seem to apply.  The man is ill, and your behavior this afternoon I'm sure has made his condition worse.  I will not be able to rest until I know he is not suffering, or that I have done all I can to ease his pain."

The wall to his room shook and an oath was yelled.  Heero imagined the smug SS Colonel had just punched the wall.  

"Fine, Relena, be his whore, but don't expect me to…."

Heero drew in a hostile breath, his lip curling into a snarl to go along with the murderous thoughts directed at the man behind the door. He made a move to throw it open, but stopped at the sound of skin striking skin. His blood ran cold as he imagined Zechs hurting Relena.

"How dare you insinuate such a thing!" Her voice wavered, and he stood still, unable to decide which action to take.  So he continued to listen, waiting for his opportunity to catch the enemy off guard.

"It is apparent which side you have chosen, do not expect me to condone your choice or protect him that dishonors you."

"Let me tell you, Milliardo, I have resisted joining the Allies, in spite of my dislike of Germany and what they stand for, for one reason and one reason only.  Because of you.  I do not wish to invite war into this country, but I want even less to fight against my own family.  I believed in you, have always loved you, but your behavior today has me wondering if my faith is poorly placed after all.  If you can not and will not protect us any longer, then I shall do whatever is necessary for my people."

Heero took a step back from the door, his thoughts surfacing in the eerie silence.  Her brother had made the last move, given her the final shove in the direction of exactly where her kingdom needed to go – joining the Allies. He knew she would not be difficult to convince, yet his mind would not stay focused on that logical element.  

"Then you have made an enemy out of your brother."

"No, my brother makes an enemy out of me."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

The door swung open, and was thrown back again.  She huddled against it, just inside his room, her back to where he was standing and waiting for her to turn…

She stood up and spun to face him; her eyes widened and she seemed to almost jump.  "Heero!"  Her hand fluttered up to her neck with a gasp.  "Wha…you should be in bed…."

Dark blue eyes flashed as he noticed how her hands shook, even though the enemy was no longer in sight.  "Did he hurt you?"

"What?  Who?"

"I heard…."__

She paled. "No, I slapped him.  He wouldn't…."

He reached out and tilted her chin up with this hand.  His thumb traced over a small portion of her jaw.  "I asked if he hurt you." __

Her eyes softened and her left hand came up to rest on his. "Heero…"

"I'll protect you, Relena.  You just have to let me."

She stared at him a long moment.  "I know what I said out there, but I can't…"

He shook his head slowly from side to side, and then took a step forward, bringing his body within inches of her.  "Not the country…you…" He leaned down and claimed her lips, pressing his mouth lightly, at first, against hers, until he felt her hands sliding up his chest to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck.  He wound his arms around her waist and folded her body against him while the kiss deepened, bringing a burning heat into every contact point between them.  The searing ache of his wound disappeared and was replaced with an ache of another kind.  

He had to pull away.  "Relena…."

"I love you," she whispered, staring up at him, her arms still comfortably wrapped around his neck.  

He couldn't reply.  His mother had been the only person to love him before, and she'd been gone almost twenty years, now.  He tightened his grip on her waist and pulled her in for another kiss, one that would show how he felt in his heart.

*                                  *                                  *

"Who are you?"

The boy stared defiantly back at him, and Duo tightened his grip around the stranger's slender throat.  "I said, _who are you_?" He repeated through clenched teeth, adrenaline once again surging through his veins, left over from their run-in with The Lightening Count back in the dining room.  With who-knows-how-many Nazis running around here, Duo had the feeling like he couldn't be too careful.

"I'm here to see Darlian," came the reply, tinged with a German accent.  The voice was noticeably feminine, causing Duo to take a closer look.  This was no boy.

"You're not from around here, are ya?" The braided soldier questioned, slanting his eyes.  Trowa and Wufei moved in beside him.  The communications officer studied their captive, turning the name she had mentioned over in his mind.  He knew that name, deciphered it in codes.  _Darlian…_

"And there's no one here called Darlian, at least not that I've met."  Duo continued, still not relaxing his hold.   "But you never answered my question.  Who are you?"  The girl's eyes glistened in the darkness.  She'd come this far and would not be deterred.

"My name is Hilde Scheibeker.  Please, it's very important that I see him.  I have messages from Berlin."  She was fighting to keep her eyes open.  It wasn't difficult for any of them to tell she was exhausted.

"Berlin?"  Trowa repeated, looking at the girl in askance. 

Wufei crossed his arms.  "And what news have the Nazi's got for us?"

"It's not for you," she hissed, pulling away and glaring at all three of them in turn.  "And not everyone that comes out of Germany is a Nazi."


	6. Implications: Heero, what about after th...

AN:  Okay, first off, remember: BREATHING IS GOOD.  Secondly, killing authors is bad.  We are WELL AWARE of how long this has taken.  And we're horribly repentant.  And very sorry.  We cannot apologize sincerely enough. We feel absolutely wretched, and cannot state how utterly remorseful….

Stella: In short.  We're sorry.  On with the fic!!!

Rose: Um, yeah.  *blushes*  What she said.

Thanks for reading!!!  Love, Rose and Stella

Courage is the price that Life exacts for granting peace.

- Amelia Earhart

ACROSS ENEMY LINES

CHAPTER 6 – Implications

Duo rubbed his eyes and stole another glance along the deserted hall when the clock chimed.  Nine o'clock.  The hour felt so much later than it actually was; the events of the day were enough to fill a week, in his estimation.  Though in the months he'd been fighting this war, he'd seen more than enough to last a lifetime.  And it seemed he wasn't the only one…

_The girl glared up at him through the shadowy light in the tunnels.  "And not everyone that comes out of Germany is a Nazi."_

_Her body stiffened under his grasp, but it was the unrelenting look in her eyes that made him loosen his hold and let her speak.  Still, he and the others blocked her path.  She would not pass without an explanation._

_"If you're not a Nazi, then what are you?" Wufei's voice growled.  She shook her head._

_"I must see Herr Darlian, bitte.  Please." _

_Trowa spoke up and moved in closer.  "There's no one here by that name. But we're American soldiers.  Let us help you."_

_The girl's shoulders slumped and she struggled to push herself away from the stone wall.  Duo saw the bulging messenger bag she carried as she tried to shift it, but couldn't seem to manage.  The German girl staggered forward.  She looked as if she were ready to collapse._

_"I was told to come here. He said he would be--  He needs to see…"_

_Duo raced forward and caught her when she fell.  He scooped the petite woman up in his arms while she hugged the bag as if it were a child._

_"What if they found him," she mumbled.  "What if… just like  father… Darlian…"  Her eyelids fluttered and the words died on her lips.  The girl's body fell limp against Duo's, and Trowa rushed to his side in time to catch the worn leather bag before it fell to the ground._

_"Darlian…" The communications officer repeated.  His green eyes flicked over the bag, but they stopped when they caught something in the dim light.  He tucked the item under his arm and started back to the main house. _

_ Duo cradled the unconscious girl and followed his friend's quick pace._

_"Do you know what she's talking about, Trowa?"_

_"I think I do.  But there's one way to find out for sure."_

_"Where are two you going with her?"_

_The two men turned when Wufei's voice caught them from behind._

_"She needs to rest.  We can't leave her down here." Duo called over his shoulder._

_"Well, I'm going to make sure she didn't bring any friends." _

_ The footfalls of his departing boots echoed heavily in the darkness.  As they reached the light of the manor interior, Duo cautiously shifted the woman in his arms.  Trowa led the way back to their rooms, and Duo said a silent "thank you" to the powers that be that their trek back had been a solitary one.  No one saw them._

_He gently laid Hilde in his bed, and stood back.  Her brow furrowed; the corners of her mouth twitched downward.  Even in her sleep, she looked troubled._

_"I wonder what they could have done to her," he wondered aloud to Trowa.  _

_ "The Nazis…"_

_The girl's eyes opened lazily, and searched the room before settling on the pair of soldiers.   "They killed my father."   Her voice was sleepy and far away, but it was evident to Duo that she still carried the pain close to her heart.  "He was a kind, intelligent and wonderful man and they…They stormed into our home, took him outside and shot him like a dog in the street.  I will never forgive them.  And if I have to give my own life to see Hitler defeated, I will give it gladly."_

"Where did you put her?"

Wufei's stern question pulled Duo out of his thoughts, and he turned to face his comrade's hard-set features.

"In my room.  I'll bunk with Quatre tonight since he's right across the hall. He's in there just having a look to make sure she's ok.  But I think all she really needs is some sleep and a little something to eat.  Come to think of it…"

"Yes, she'll be fine."  The medic quietly shut the stranger's door after Trowa filed out behind him.  Quatre tip-toed between his fellow soldiers and led them away from the room.  "I don't think now is the time to tell Miss Relena about this.  If this girl is carrying Nazi intelligence, we can't take the risk of having anyone know about it until we see what it is."

Trowa nodded.  "Besides, with the Lightning Count here, it just might make things that much more difficult for the princess.  I think her brother was hoping to find something to implicate her.  We've been trouble enough."

"Have you looked in the bag yet, Trowa?" Quatre asked.

"Everything is in code.  And there are sets of blueprints. I don't know what they mean."

Wufei scowled.  "And who is this Darlian?"

Trowa picked up the bag and looked it over again.  "I've heard the name Darlian before.  The Nazis want him. The Gestapo have been chasing him for months."

Duo leaned back against the wall.  This was making his head hurt.  "So, I'm starting to think that the Colonel's visit was for more than just a look at what those planes did to his sister's home."

The other men agreed.

 "Darlian could be code name," Wufei offered.  "A code name for someone here?"

"But I don't understand." Quatre cut in.  "The Sanq is neutral.  Does this mean that Relena has sided with the allies after all?"

Trowa's lips pressed into a thin line.  "I don't know.  I think she would have told us if she had plans to work with U.S."

"Maybe she can't," Wufei said.  "What if it's covert?"

Duo shrugged.  "Then I think Heero would have known about it.  He didn't seem to.  He's the kind of guy they send in on missions like that."

"But I don't think this has anything to do with the allies," Trowa said.

"Well, maybe we can find out more in the morning." Quatre yawned and turned towards his door.  "Best to just let Miss Hilde sleep – and to keep this quiet for now."

Duo stretched and followed the medic into his room.  He stole one last glance at the closed door across the hall, his thoughts turning to the girl behind it.  "Sleep well, Hilde.  I think you deserve it."

************************************************

            Try as he might, Trowa couldn't let it go.  The name Darlian.  The mysterious messages the girl had carried all the way from Berlin.  Something in those papers nagged at the back of his mind, begging him to remember - telling him the key to cracking the code was within his grasp if he could just reach out and find it.  His finger traced the marking on the flap of Hilde's bag.  At first it seemed to be just an insignia, maybe a decoration, but it was too familiar: the careful ink printing of a small, black violin.  It wouldn't have aroused his suspicion, except for the fact that it was scrawled on several of the documents inside.  Trowa knew he'd seen the symbol before.  And while pacing around the manor, he finally remembered where.

Moonlight bounced off the white curtains and bed sheets; the whole room seemed to glow in silvery blue.  Trowa slipped inside the large doors of the manor's medical ward.  The place seemed deserted.  _Perfect…  _

Since they had first arrived in this country, Trowa couldn't shake the feeling that Sally Po was more involved in the war than she claimed as a member of the official Sanq guard.  The quiet and reserved lady-doctor kept to herself, but he had noticed that she rarely emerged from her office – even when there were no patients – except for a patrol tour here and there.  Trowa's brain swam in the sea of jumbled events, trying to remember… 

When he had been in here with her the morning Wufei's brother died, or when he had come to borrow a radio.  Yes!   In her office, in the very back, while she rummaged in the storage closet.  Why his eyes had drifted to it, he couldn't say, but he had seen it clearly.  A tiny booklet with that same black violin.

His short breaths rung in his ears as he slowly turned the doorknob to Sally's office.  The wooden panel crept open and he inched his way inside, squinting in the darkness.  He found her desk lamp and switched it on while he scanned mounds of files and reports.  Trowa shuffled several of the stacks around, looking under, beside and in between the files.  _Medical journals, a few hospital charts for some guardsmen… Was he sure he'd seen it here?   _

He took a step backwards, and the heel of his boot caught on something that nearly made him trip.  The booklet protruded from beneath a nearby table.  Trowa bent down and scooped it up, holding the cover up to the light on the desk.  It bore the imprint just as he remembered.  The soldier tucked it into his jacket and made a quick exit back to his quarters.

            As the first rays of dawn peeked in through the opened window, Trowa set down a pencil and stared with tired eyes at the translated sheets before him.  He moved the code book aside then replaced the stack of papers back into Hilde's bag and closed the flap.  The exhausted soldier slumped over the desk and stared once more at the marking on the bag. 

The black violin was the symbol of the Schwarze Kapelle – the Black Orchestra - the German resistance.  The papers that Trowa had held in his hands outlined an intricate plot that could change the tide of the war, and history itself.

            "God help us." He traced the figure with the bare tips of his fingers as sleep wrapped its arms around him and drew him into a warm embrace.  

******************************************************

Quatre blinked, then squeezed his eyes shut to avoid the bright rays pouring into his room.  Why oh why had he forgotten to close the curtains last night?  _It's still early, the medic reasoned, turning over and grabbing the nearest pillow. He buried his face in the soft darkness. _That girl is probably still sleep--__

A loud snorting sound cut into his thoughts and Quatre raised his head.  He squinted through the assault of light, searching for the source of the offensive noise.  His bleary eyes settled on the slumbering figure of Duo Maxwell sprawled on the armchair by the fireplace. The braided soldier was snoring away like a grizzly bear in the Lincoln Park Zoo back home in Chicago.  

With a groan, Quatre pulled another pillow over his head and hauled the quilt on top.  His mind wandered back to the German girl, and why she had come to the Sanq Kingdom.  She had said she was looking for a mysterious man named Darlian, but Quatre had decided that what she really needed was a warm bed and something to eat.  The others had smuggled her upstairs to Duo's room, brought her some food and left her to rest.  A pang of guilt tugged at his heart for hiding the girl from Miss Relena, but with her brother still in the Manor, they had felt it was the wisest decision - especially if Hilde was they suspected her to be: a spy.

The sound of what could have been a chainsaw filtered in through the many layers of cotton and down.  His pillows provided little defense against his comrade's snoring. Finally, Quatre gave up on trying to sleep and decided to go see how Heero was feeling.  The Army Captain's wound had looked angry and red after the punishment he had received at the hands of Zechs Merquise. Sally had restitched a small section of flesh that had torn open, but Quatre had been surprised that his friend wasn't in worse shape.  For all the fever Heero had been running, the injury was farther advanced in the healing stage than the medic had imagined possible.  

Quatre slid out of bed and tiptoed passed the spot where Duo slept near the fire, and slowly opened the door.  He stepped out into the hallway, only to be met by Wufei Chang, who stood leaning against the wall just outside of Hilde's room.

"Is everything all right?" Quatre whispered, looking over the haggard soldier.  He wore the same clothes as when they parted company last evening, and there was no missing the dark circles that had formed under his eyes.  "Have you been here all night?"

"Well someone has to make sure she doesn't try anything." Wufei sniffed and glared at blond man across from him.  "You're all too trusting."

"You don't believe her, Wufei?"

"I just find it a little too coincidental that she showed up the same day the Nazis did.  And I for one can't sleep with the scum swarming around this place."    

Quatre scratched his head while his sleep fogged brain fought to sort through all the details.  "Why should that make a difference?  She traveled on foot; she obviously didn't arrive with them."

"That doesn't mean a thing," Wufei said, crossing his arms.  "She has an affiliation with the enemy.  She came from Berlin."

Quatre took a step closer in hopes to better control the volume of their conversation with his proximity to the other man.  He stared at his comrade a moment then shook his head.  "I believe that she's telling us the truth.  How could someone make up a story like that?  And just think of what it must have been like for her, after what the Nazis did to her father.  None of us have had to live through what she has."

"Speak for yourself, Winner.  I know how it feels to watch family die and be helpless to stop it."

Quatre bowed his head, his voice barely above a whisper.  "Your brother… I'm sorry…"

"You're not the only one!" Wufei raged.  "I blame them all. Each and every one of them.  Every single time I look at one of those officers, I see my brother, dead in a coffin.  And how you can sleep so easy with them here, I will never know."

The blond soldier felt a shiver run up his spine, and he sank against the hard wood panel of the door.  "I haven't slept easy since I left home.  If I'm not completely exhausted enough to pass right out, I see it all when I close my eyes.  Like a movie, over and over; I see blood.  I smell smoke and hear the screams of dying men.  I see Normandy.  I see senseless death.  I don't know if there will ever be a time when I won't."

"I know what you mean," Wufei said.  "It's just that… I don't want anyone else to have to know what that feels like, even that bastard Zechs Merquise.  This woman, Relena, is standing up to the Reich.  If more people had done what she's doing, perhaps there wouldn't have been a war in the first place. So," the soldier squared his shoulders and continued, "until we're sure about the girl, we shouldn't let our guard down."

Quatre smiled and turned to leave.  Just like Heero, Wufei had his own, rather uncommon way of expressing gratitude.  "I'm just going to go check on Heero."

"He left his room a few minutes ago," Wufei said.  "The Lightning Count is supposed to go back to Germany this morning.  I suppose Yuy wanted to wish him bon voyage." The soldier snorted his derision.  "I didn't hear any glass shattering or screaming, so I assume there was no fighting."

"Oh, well, that's…good…" Quatre trailed off.  A span of more than a few hours without injury for Heero seemed to be a rare occurrence from what he had witnessed in the last few weeks.  But, the day was still young.   "We'll take what we can get," he mumbled.  "I'll be right over here if Miss Hilde wakes up.  Why don't you go get yourself something to eat?"

Wufei nodded and took his leave in the direction of the kitchen.

******************************************************

Zechs knew the volume of his voice was on the rise, but had no desire to contain it.  It echoed loudly in his ears, bouncing off the marbled halls of his childhood home.      "I can't believe what a fool she's being.  And she's the leader of a country."

 "But Zechs, she's in love."  Noin placed a calming hand on his forearm, but he shrugged away from her touch and glared at the woman beside him.

"That's exactly the point.  How can she be so irresponsible?"

"Love isn't being irresponsible."

 "But putting your people's lives in danger, falling for some…some sneaking coward, some lying…"  His fist slammed down on a nearby hall table.  The vase of flowers on the marble top rattled, but Noin raced to catch it before it tipped over.  

"He seems to care about her," she said, toying with the newly disheveled blossoms.  "I heard the others…"

"The others lie.  He lies.  And she's too caught up in his sick routine to see the truth.  Sick.  BAH!"

He swiveled around and stomped down the hall, intent on finding that damn American and finishing their "discussion" from yesterday.  Noin moved in front of him, blocking his path.  "Zechs, I know it's hard for you to understand.  But try to see it from her perspective.  She cares about him, obviously very much.  She wants to protect him, and that's a very noble thing.  I know how she feels…." 

"She's being stubborn just to spite me.  To spite me for leaving.  Well, this world isn't one big party where she's always the guest of honor."  Zechs pressed forward, but Noin stood her ground.

"She doesn't think that.  She has a good head on her shoulders, and a good heart.  I'll admit she's stubborn, but I think she must come by it honestly." A hint of a smile formed on her lips.  Zechs scowled as his assistant continued.  

"I don't see it as a weakness in her, but rather something that does her credit.  She knows her mind, and she knows her heart.  Just because you don't agree with her choice…"

"He's up to something. I can tell by the way he acts.  He's not sick, and why he's pretending…"

The click of a doorknob startled him out of his tirade, and he spun around to come face to face with the object of his disgust.  Heero's uniform shirt was not buttoned, and fell open in the front.  The electric light caught on something white nestled close to his side.  Zechs stared.  The soldier's entire right flank was heavily bandaged – the side he had connected with in the last of their fight.  

Dark sapphire eyes glinted dangerously as Heero paused only a moment before pushing passed the older man towards the kitchen.  

As he walked on, Noin's voice called out.  "Good morning, Heero."  Zechs frowned down at her again.

Heero stopped, pivoted, and met the eyes of the Reich colonel's assistant.  He nodded politely in acknowledgement of her greeting, then leveled another glare at Zechs before walking away.

"He's been injured.  And from the looks of it…" Noin said in a hushed voice.

"I know."  He gently took her arm in a signal to let him by.  Noin relented.  Zechs followed the American soldier down the hallway, after giving the man a lengthy head start.  The Colonel found him in the kitchen, leaning heavily on the counter – his pale face covered with a fresh sheen of perspiration.  

_"At least he's in no condition to seduce her." Zechs watched the younger man continue to struggle for a moment, then sense of honor almost got the best of him. His legs moved without prior approval from his brain, but before he made it far enough into the kitchen to be noticed, the Chinese-looking pilot arrived from the other entrance._

"Yuy."

Heero stood up quickly; his jaw clenched in a tight line and a spasm shuddered through his body.

"At the risk of sounding like Quatre, you shouldn't be out of bed."

"I was thirsty." Heero's voice rasped when he spoke. He seemed out of breath.  "I should be able to get my own glass of water."

Wufei raised an eyebrow.  "I'm surprised her Highness would let you try."

Dark eyes drifted away as Heero made slow progression to the countertop.  "She's…asleep."  

The wounded soldier tried to lift the nearly full water pitcher.  Zechs could see the muscles in the man's neck straining from the effort until the other soldier took hold. 

"Here, allow me."

Heero refused to relinquish his grip on the glass handle.  "I'm fine."

"I saw the fight, and I know where he hit you,"  his friend argued, wrestling the vessel away with little trouble.  "Sally said it reopened your wound."

"I said, I'm fine."

Wufei ignored him and moments later, slid a filled glass over to his comrade.  "Your stubbornness will get you killed one day.  It was a miracle the Sanq kingdom took us in.  Those Nazi bastards loved beating the crap out of you."

A shaking hand raised the drink to his pale lips.  "At least nothing's changed."

"Ha.  Yeah, guess you're right."  The other pilot offered an arm to the reluctant patient.  "Come on, I'll help you back…"

"No.  I can walk on my own."  Heero shrugged away from the offer of help and started towards the door.  Wufei rolled his eyes and fell into step beside him.

"Fine.  Have it your way. Mind if I tag along?"

Heero nodded.  The two soldiers exited the way the injured soldier came in and Zechs quickly retreated into the shadows of the opposite hallway.  He stared at the floor, fighting to take in deep, calming breaths despite the rage that swelled in his chest.  

_The enemy should have a single face, and a single name.  They should remain anonymous, inhuman, if at all possible.  It's the only way a soldier is able to sleep at night._

******************************************************

The two friends came to the end of the corridor, stopping in front of the injured man's room.  Heero steadied himself against the wall and moved to open the door, when another spasm of pain hit, and he almost lost his balance.  Wufei reached out and grabbed the water glass before it could slip from his grasp.

"Mornings are always worse.  Get some rest."

"Hn." Heero held fast to the door, and glanced at the other pilot out of the corner of his eye.  Wufei let out a breath and shook his head.

"I'm already aware that she's in there.  She wasn't in her room this morning, and I'm not an idiot.  I just happen to know you're in no condition to do anything dishonorable, even if you wanted to."

"Hn."  Heero held his breath and opened the door. He took a staggering step into his room, then turned to shut it. 

Wufei's eyes widened as he caught sight of the young princess actually lying in his comrade's bed. Though still fully clothed, Heero knew it pushed the bounds of what others considered proper.  The injured soldier sent the Chinese man a warning glare.  Wufei shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away. 

"I hope you know what you're doing, he said as Heero closed the door once again.

He lowered himself inch by inch back into the bed.  It was still early, and though he had been wide awake when he first ventured from his room, his eyelids felt pounds heavier as he stole a sidelong glance at the beautiful, sleeping girl beside him.  

It had felt so strange to wake up and see her face so close - her warm body occupying the space next to him on the mattress.  He had felt the desire to reach out and stroke her hair, to make sure it wasn't a dream.  As the flaxen threads slipped through his fingers, a rare smile had formed on his face.  It had occurred to him, then, that Relena would be sad to have missed the extraordinary expression.

He sunk into the sheets and blankets, his eyes still trying to stay open – to watch her until whatever dream this was disappeared with the morning mist.  It couldn't be true and it couldn't be real…but her presence was a pleasant illusion.  Sleep finally took him, settling over his body like the serene sigh that escaped her lips.

"Heero…"

Light tore his mind from sleep; his eyelids dragged slowly open to take in whatever situation the soldier in him must face. But instead of rutted ground shuddering beneath terrifying explosions, he woke to serenity and warmth – and the beauty of her face merely inches away.  She smiled in her sleep as if everything in her dreaming wonderland was perfect and safe.  He felt his heart sigh and the strange desire to stay exactly as he was - to just watch her breathe.  With effort, he rolled his painful body over to completely face her; his right arm darted out, drawing her closer.  She stirred a bit and then burrowed farther into his embrace.

Just as he had settled back into the pillowed surface behind his head, the door swung open and the sound of the bothersome medic's voice interrupted the peaceful quiet of Heero's room.

"Heero, I saw Wufei and-- OH!"  Quatre froze in mid-step; his complexion turned an alarming shade of red.  "I… um…"

Relena shifted against the injured soldier, and Heero threw the medic a warning look.  

"I-I'm s-sorry." Quatre said. "S-Sally went to look for her in her room…She's normally awake by this time and uh... We just… I didn't mean….Sorry for disturbing you."

He ducked his head and quickly shut the door.  Heero waited, his arm still curled around her delicate form.

"And I was having such a nice dream," she whispered, stretching her slender arms up over her head.  "I dreamt I was here, with you.  You smiled at me and held me like you wanted me to stay and…" She lifted her head and peered up at him through half-opened lids.  A smile grazed her lips.  "Hm.  I must still be asleep." 

She flopped back down on the bed, spilling her hair in a shower of gold across his pillow.   Relena pressed closer to him, burying her gentle features into the bared skin of his chest.  He could feel her steady breathing wafting against its surface, the heat fusing with the temperature in his veins.  Just because he was in no condition to do anything 'dishonorable' didn't mean he was completely immune…. "No."

She drew away and Heero instantly missed the feel of her - the awareness and warmth.  Light blue eyes peeked up at him again through layers of sleep.  

"You're not dreaming," he said.  "And the others are looking for you.  Quatre…"

Her mouth covered his, and she nibbled at his lower lip in a series of small, innocuous kisses.  He ducked his head and caught her mouth in a decided conquest. He kissed her more fervently than he should, hoping to alarm her just enough to put a safe distance between them.  He broke away, expecting her to retreat from her position, but she stayed where she was – then promptly nestled closer once again.

"I'm glad," she whispered, draping an arm across his chest.  "I didn't want to be dreaming."

"Relena…." Damn, she was doing…things to him that made the lower half of his body start to feel uncomfortable.  The inner sting of conscience nagged at him to disentangle himself, but then her arm came up to wrap around his waist.  He relaxed into her loose embrace, deciding he could deal with the small discomfort and gladly quell the masculine urges he was physically unable to indulge in favor of keeping her right where she was.

Her eyelashes fluttered against his cheek.  "How are you feeling? I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be.  It wasn't your fault.  And I feel fine."

Her fingers gently brushed his forehead, as if unconsciously checking for a fever.  "If this is fine, I'd hate to see the shape you were in before you came to my country."

He tensed at her words.  Relena lifted her head to look him in the eye.  "I didn't mean anything by that except that I know you're not fine.  I'm still worried about you, and…"

His hand sought out hers.  "I'll be fine, Relena.  I promise."

"You'd better be.  I need you to get well, and…." 

He dropped his gaze; Heero knew she would only be upset if he told her…

She sat up.  "You intend to leave then, don't you?  When you're well enough."

He fought his way into an upright position, still maintaining his hold on her hand.  "There's a war going on.  I can't just stay here and ignore it."

"But…you've done your job, haven't you? I thought Duo said your tour was almost up.  Couldn't you be discharged for medical…"

He took a deep breath.  It hurt, but not as much as the expression on her face.  "I can still fight, Relena, and I don't intend to quit until it's over or…" His eyes darted away.  "…until it's over."

"I see."  She bowed her head and sighed.  "And I understand." She cupped his face in her hands.  "I won't argue with you about that when the time comes.  But for now, just concentrate on getting well."

He gathered her close once more, trying to dispel the reality that had crept into the air of his room like a faint, but pungent odor.  He closed his eyes, just wanting to engrave the feeling of her closeness in his mind.  

"Heero, what about after the war?  Where is home?"

His eyes snapped open. She pulled away and sat facing him on the bed.  

"Home?"

"Yes." She smiled.   "Your home.  I've heard the others speak about their families and towns, people they know…but you never do.  I admit my geographical knowledge of the United States isn't what it should be, but I'd like to…."

He felt the corners of his mouth turn downwards.  "I thought you knew all you needed to." 

"I do.  I just…I'm just curious. I'd like to know more about you, is that wrong?"  Relena raised a soft hand to his cheek, but he turned away.

"Why do you need to?"

"I don't need to, I just want to.  I'd tell you anything you wanted to know, but I have a feeling you won't ask."

"You don't trust me," Heero said. "Your brother…." _She believes him._

"I have trusted you with my life and my heart." Her voice rose to an angry level.  "It is you who appears not to trust me with what should be fairly basic information." Her weight shifted on the mattress, but he couldn't look at her.    

"Do you have something to hide from me?  Because I told you from the start you need not bother to pretend…."  She sprang from the bed with speed that he currently could not hope to possess and started for the door.

Heero winced with the movement of the mattress. But it wasn't just the pain of his wound causing the ache in his chest to grow.  "Home is currently this room." 

The hand that had reached out for the doorknob dropped and she slowly spun to face him.  "Before that it was somewhere close to Normandy, France.  My last 'home' before leaving the US was a military installation at Ft. Wayne, Indiana."

"But…don't you call your home the place where your family lives?" Relena asked, making her way back to the bed.  She sat down on the far edge and folded her hands in her lap.  "What about your parents, or brothers and sisters?  You don't have someplace or someone waiting for you back home?"

"My uncle raised me.  My parents both died when I was very young.  I was an only child."

"Oh."  She reached out for him, but he turned his head and kept his arms folded.

"Don't tell me you're sorry.  I don't need your pity."

He heard her let out a long breath, and then she continued, speaking in a quiet, even tone.  "Where is your uncle now?"

Heero looked back and met her eyes once again.  "He died shortly before I enlisted."

"I see.  So, what was he like – your uncle? Was he married, did he have children of his own?"

"He was a college professor at Perdue University.  No wife, no kids – just a stubborn nephew that he raised from the time he was four years old."  He caught the hint of a grin on her lips.  "Does any of this matter?"

"It matters to me.  Every little detail about you matters to me.  Don't you understand that caring about someone doesn't mean only caring about the here and now?" She swung her legs up onto the mattress and scooted towards him.  "Sometimes, the smallest details can be the most telling, offer the most insight.  When I said I loved you, I love you as you are – right here and right now."  She leaned in close, leveling her lips just inches from his own.  Her fingers threaded through his tangled hair. "Nothing from your past will change how I feel. But I don't want to just love you from a distance.  I want to know you."

His body relaxed under her touch in spite of his indignant thoughts.  He reached out to the girl before him.  "Why me? Why not some descendant from one of the most respected families of Western Europe?"

Relena shook her head and ran her finger along the line of his jaw.  "Because they're not you.  You have such a kind heart, Heero.  Why can't you trust anyone to care about you the way you care for others?"  The heat of her breath washed over his face, and he closed his eyes, waiting….  

"Why can't you believe me when I say I love you?"

"Because I--"

"Heero?  Miss Relena?"  The unlocked door creaked open, this time more slowly than the last, and the site of familiar, blond hair came into view.  "I'm sorry to interrupt again, but… Miss Relena - your brother is prepared to leave.  Did you want to see him before he goes?"

Relena squared her shoulders and pulled away from Heero.  "Tell him to go.  I have… nothing else to say to him."

*****************************************************

Duo rubbed the sleep from his eyes and, with a yawn, stumbled out into the hallway.   He staggered a few paces before tripping over some... thing that was lying right in the middle of the hallway.  He squinted to try to bring the blurry shape into focus.  It was yelling at him.

"Will you watch where you're going?"

Duo blinked, noticing the object was a tightly laced combat boot.  He followed the brown leather upwards until it met green fatigues that matched his own, topped off with black hair.  Wufei frowned up at him.

"Where are you going?"

"Kitchen.  Did I miss breakfast?"

The other soldier rose to his feet and blinked his tired-looking eyes.  "You mean lunch.  It's about time you got up.  The medic is busy running around, and I haven't seen Barton all day."

Duo scratched his head and studied the other man.  He looked like he'd been up all night.  "Why are you sitting out here?"

"Do you trust her?"  Wufei pointed at the closed door behind his head.  _She must still be asleep.  The image of her collapsing in his arms played again in his mind, and Duo nodded._

"I… I think I do."

A scowl formed on the other man's face.  "Well, I don't.  So keep an eye on the door and make sure she doesn't go anywhere."

"But what about…"  

Wufei flung open the door to his own room down the hall and disappeared inside without another glance.  "…food."  _Oh well._

The door slammed loudly behind the sleep-deprived soldier and the noise rattled through the hall as Duo sunk to the carpeted floor and leaned against the wall.  At times, the Peacecraft Manor reminded him a little of the church where he'd spent the last years of his childhood.  The building felt big, important, as if you should be pious and reverent just to walk through it, let alone live there.

The urgent sound of footsteps and the jingle of a doorknob pulled him out of his thoughts.  She stood there in the shadow of the doorway - the same wild-eyed look on her face - only this time, it was a well-rested, wild-eyed look.

"Where is it?"

Hilde charged out of the room and pinned him against the wall before he even managed to stand completely up.

"What?" Duo blinked.  "Where's--"

"The documents. My bag!" She pounded her fist against the wall.  "Where is it!  You took it!"

"I took it."

Trowa's tall figure appeared over her shoulder, and Duo watched the girl whirl around, though still unsteady on her feet.

"You had no right." She choked back a sob as anger washed her face in a deeper shade of crimson.  "How dare you."

"Keep your voice down.  Do you want Zechs Merquise to hear you?"

Her livid complexion instantly paled. "Zechs Merquise?"

Trowa crossed his arms and spoke to the girl in his usual, unaffected tone.  "Yes, the Reich's infamous Lightning Count. He's here.  And I believe that his visit has something to do with what you were carrying."

Hilde brought a hand up to her throat and sank back against the wall.  "How could they know?"

"Know what?" Duo looked from one to the other, waiting to be let in on their secret.  How the heck did Trowa know so much about what was going on?

"They don't know. But they're suspicious."

Her hands shook and she closed her eyes.  She no longer appeared to have the strength to stand.  Duo moved to catch her just in case.  "Suspicious of who? Would someone like to fill me in?"

Green eyes glittered dangerously.  "Why don't you ask her.  I'm sure she realizes that she owes us all that much."

"You weren't supposed to be involved," Hilde spat.  "Herr Darlian--"

"It's too late. We're involved, now."

Duo stared up at the taller man.  "Too late for what, Trowa?"

The communications officer glanced from Duo to Hilde.  "To keep this kingdom from being implicated.  Your people had better know what they're doing."

Hilde nodded, her complexion regaining some of its former color.  "I believe in them.  They will not fail."

"Okay, I'm seriously lost.  Trowa? Hilde?"

Trowa took a step closer; his focus seemed to be completely on the girl from Germany.  "You realize what will happen if they do?  It won't be just this kingdom, it will be every name in that book you carried in here.  And their families."

"They know.  I know. And most of us…We do not worry about ourselves.  It is worth any sacrifice to stop him." She lowered her gaze to the floor.  "I try not to think of all the lives that could have been spared if we had acted sooner."

Trowa narrowed his eyes at young woman.  "And I try not to think of all the lives that will be lost if you fail."

****************************************************

Relena stood at the window and looked down.  Her brother—No, SS Colonel Zechs Merquise and his entourage climbed into their waiting vehicles and prepared to leave.  

_"Why? Why are you leaving?" She looked up at her brother's silhouette in the doorway. "When are you coming back?"_

_"I cannot stay here, and tolerate this poorly disguised tyranny any longer." His normally calm voice practically growled. "Our father is a hypocrite.  And holds      others--" _

_"He's leaving because he is no longer welcome here.  He is not my son." King Peacecraft entered the room from the hallway.  His tall figure cast its shadow across the rug and engulfed his daughter's much smaller one.  She stared up at him with pleading eyes._

_"Father, please!"_

_"Your words have long since ceased to wound," Milliard said. He kept his back toward them, and wouldn't turn around. "Your disowning me as your son just saves me the trouble of having to relinquish the throne." He slammed the door shut behind him._

_"Brother, don't go!" Relena rushed after him, yelling at the top of her lungs. "Please…"_

_He never looked back._

_"Don't go."_

She closed her eyes and felt a single tear escape from the corner of her eye.  A gentle hand traced its path.  The sides of her mouth turned up as his touch continued down to her jaw line and tilted up her chin.  His breath was warm on her cheek, but lingered longer than she wanted.  

Relena cracked her eyelids to gaze up into endless dark blue eyes.  He stood, just staring at her, as if time and the world had stopped for only them.

"I promise, Relena…."

"I've turned it over and over in my mind.  How can I send my people off to die? How can I invite this war into my country?"

His voice was low and quiet.  "It's coming.  Whether you want it or not."

A knock sounded at the door.  "Miss Relena?"

"One moment," she said, and turned back to Heero.  "I promised you yesterday.  I will listen to what you have to say on the matter.  But Quatre needs to check your bandages, and you need to eat to keep up your strength.  We can meet in my office in an hour.  I'm afraid you have all the advantage when you hold me like this."

He blinked then stepped back and released her from his loose embrace. "That's not why…"

"I know. I believe you.  I trust you."

The door inched open.  "Miss Relena?"

"Please take care of him, Quatre." Her eyes focused on the motorcade that had just begun to pull out of the drive.  

Heero turned and took her arm, forcing her to look at him.  "An hour," he said; his forehead creased above his brow in a serious expression.  She nodded and he let her go, then followed the medic from the room – leaving her alone.

Her brother's car, the one holding the highest-ranking officer, was last.  It idled, giving the other vehicles a substantial head start.  For a moment, she thought he might come back….

_"I will not be able to make it back, Relena." She doubted his voice only sounded distant because of the connection._

_"It's his funeral, Milliard.  Whatever differences--"_

_"He disowned me, remember? He was not my father."_

_"Please come back.  I'm not ready for this.  I can't do this on my own.  Not alone. Please, brother--"_

The automobile lurched forward, following the other cars down the drive.

_"It's not my place, Relena.  Get married if you don't want to be alone." The connection clicked and then her earpiece vibrated with the final sound of the dial tone.  He wasn't coming back. _

_You've never been here when I needed someone.  When I had doubts.  When I failed or made mistakes.  When father died.  When I was left to pick up the pieces at the age of sixteen.  _

_You've not been a brother since you left all those years ago.  _

Relena's hands came up to touch the glass.  Her knees felt like wobbling jelly, and she leaned on the window for support.  The legs gave out beneath her dress, and she collapsed to the floor in a heap of blue silk.

_How can I face this alone?_

The Mercedes drove on, growing further away with every passing moment.  She followed it with her eyes until it became a distant speck on the horizon.

Until he was gone.


	7. Implications: Heero, what about after

AN: Okay, first off, remember: BREATHING IS GOOD. Secondly, killing authors is bad. We are WELL AWARE of how long this has taken. And we're horribly repentant. And very sorry. We cannot apologize sincerely enough. We feel absolutely wretched, and cannot state how utterly remorseful….

Stella: In short. We're sorry. On with the fic!!!

Rose: Um, yeah. *blushes* What she said.

Thanks for reading!!! Love, Rose and Stella

Courage is the price that Life exacts for granting peace.

- Amelia Earhart

ACROSS ENEMY LINES

CHAPTER 6 – Implications

Duo rubbed his eyes and stole another glance along the deserted hall when the clock chimed. Nine o'clock. The hour felt so much later than it actually was; the events of the day were enough to fill a week, in his estimation. Though in the months he'd been fighting this war, he'd seen more than enough to last a lifetime. And it seemed he wasn't the only one…

__

_The girl glared up at him through the shadowy light in the tunnels. "And not everyone that comes out of Germany is a Nazi."_

_Her body stiffened under his grasp, but it was the unrelenting look in her eyes that made him loosen his hold and let her speak. Still, he and the others blocked her path. She would not pass without an explanation._

_"If you're not a Nazi, then what are you?" Wufei's voice growled. She shook her head._

_"I must see Herr Darlian, bitte. Please." _

_Trowa spoke up and moved in closer. "There's no one here by that name. But we're American soldiers. Let us help you."_

_The girl's shoulders slumped and she struggled to push herself away from the stone wall. Duo saw the bulging messenger bag she carried as she tried to shift it, but couldn't seem to manage. The German girl staggered forward. She looked as if she were ready to collapse._

_"I was told to come here. He said he would be-- He needs to see…"_

_Duo raced forward and caught her when she fell. He scooped the petite woman up in his arms while she hugged the bag as if it were a child._

_"What if they found him," she mumbled. "What if… just like father… Darlian…" Her eyelids fluttered and the words died on her lips. The girl's body fell limp against Duo's, and Trowa rushed to his side in time to catch the worn leather bag before it fell to the ground._

_"Darlian…" The communications officer repeated. His green eyes flicked over the bag, but they stopped when they caught something in the dim light. He tucked the item under his arm and started back to the main house. _

_ Duo cradled the unconscious girl and followed his friend's quick pace._

_"Do you know what she's talking about, Trowa?"_

_"I think I do. But there's one way to find out for sure."_

_"Where are two you going with her?"_

_The two men turned when Wufei's voice caught them from behind._

_"She needs to rest. We can't leave her down here." Duo called over his shoulder._

_"Well, I'm going to make sure she didn't bring any friends." _

_ The footfalls of his departing boots echoed heavily in the darkness. As they reached the light of the manor interior, Duo cautiously shifted the woman in his arms. Trowa led the way back to their rooms, and Duo said a silent "thank you" to the powers that be that their trek back had been a solitary one. No one saw them._

_He gently laid Hilde in his bed, and stood back. Her brow furrowed; the corners of her mouth twitched downward. Even in her sleep, she looked troubled._

_"I wonder what they could have done to her," he wondered aloud to Trowa. _

_ "The Nazis…"_

_The girl's eyes opened lazily, and searched the room before settling on the pair of soldiers. "They killed my father." Her voice was sleepy and far away, but it was evident to Duo that she still carried the pain close to her heart. "He was a kind, intelligent and wonderful man and they…They stormed into our home, took him outside and shot him like a dog in the street. I will never forgive them. And if I have to give my own life to see Hitler defeated, I will give it gladly."_

"Where did you put her?"

Wufei's stern question pulled Duo out of his thoughts, and he turned to face his comrade's hard-set features.

"In my room. I'll bunk with Quatre tonight since he's right across the hall. He's in there just having a look to make sure she's ok. But I think all she really needs is some sleep and a little something to eat. Come to think of it…"

"Yes, she'll be fine." The medic quietly shut the stranger's door after Trowa filed out behind him. Quatre tip-toed between his fellow soldiers and led them away from the room. "I don't think now is the time to tell Miss Relena about this. If this girl is carrying Nazi intelligence, we can't take the risk of having anyone know about it until we see what it is."

Trowa nodded. "Besides, with the Lightning Count here, it just might make things that much more difficult for the princess. I think her brother was hoping to find something to implicate her. We've been trouble enough."

"Have you looked in the bag yet, Trowa?" Quatre asked.

"Everything is in code. And there are sets of blueprints. I don't know what they mean."

Wufei scowled. "And who is this Darlian?"

Trowa picked up the bag and looked it over again. "I've heard the name Darlian before. The Nazis want him. The Gestapo have been chasing him for months."

Duo leaned back against the wall. This was making his head hurt. "So, I'm starting to think that the Colonel's visit was for more than just a look at what those planes did to his sister's home."

The other men agreed.

"Darlian could be code name," Wufei offered. "A code name for someone here?"

"But I don't understand." Quatre cut in. "The Sanq is neutral. Does this mean that Relena has sided with the allies after all?"

Trowa's lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't know. I think she would have told us if she had plans to work with U.S."

"Maybe she can't," Wufei said. "What if it's covert?"

Duo shrugged. "Then I think Heero would have known about it. He didn't seem to. He's the kind of guy they send in on missions like that."

"But I don't think this has anything to do with the allies," Trowa said.

"Well, maybe we can find out more in the morning." Quatre yawned and turned towards his door. "Best to just let Miss Hilde sleep – and to keep this quiet for now."

Duo stretched and followed the medic into his room. He stole one last glance at the closed door across the hall, his thoughts turning to the girl behind it. "Sleep well, Hilde. I think you deserve it."

************************************************

Try as he might, Trowa couldn't let it go. The name Darlian. The mysterious messages the girl had carried all the way from Berlin. Something in those papers nagged at the back of his mind, begging him to remember - telling him the key to cracking the code was within his grasp if he could just reach out and find it. His finger traced the marking on the flap of Hilde's bag. At first it seemed to be just an insignia, maybe a decoration, but it was too familiar: the careful ink printing of a small, black violin. It wouldn't have aroused his suspicion, except for the fact that it was scrawled on several of the documents inside. Trowa knew he'd seen the symbol before. And while pacing around the manor, he finally remembered where.

Moonlight bounced off the white curtains and bed sheets; the whole room seemed to glow in silvery blue. Trowa slipped inside the large doors of the manor's medical ward. The place seemed deserted. _Perfect… _

Since they had first arrived in this country, Trowa couldn't shake the feeling that Sally Po was more involved in the war than she claimed as a member of the official Sanq guard. The quiet and reserved lady-doctor kept to herself, but he had noticed that she rarely emerged from her office – even when there were no patients – except for a patrol tour here and there. Trowa's brain swam in the sea of jumbled events, trying to remember… 

When he had been in here with her the morning Wufei's brother died, or when he had come to borrow a radio. Yes! In her office, in the very back, while she rummaged in the storage closet. Why his eyes had drifted to it, he couldn't say, but he had seen it clearly. A tiny booklet with that same black violin.

His short breaths rung in his ears as he slowly turned the doorknob to Sally's office. The wooden panel crept open and he inched his way inside, squinting in the darkness. He found her desk lamp and switched it on while he scanned mounds of files and reports. Trowa shuffled several of the stacks around, looking under, beside and in between the files. _Medical journals, a few hospital charts for some guardsmen… Was he sure he'd seen it here? _

He took a step backwards, and the heel of his boot caught on something that nearly made him trip. The booklet protruded from beneath a nearby table. Trowa bent down and scooped it up, holding the cover up to the light on the desk. It bore the imprint just as he remembered. The soldier tucked it into his jacket and made a quick exit back to his quarters.

As the first rays of dawn peeked in through the opened window, Trowa set down a pencil and stared with tired eyes at the translated sheets before him. He moved the code book aside then replaced the stack of papers back into Hilde's bag and closed the flap. The exhausted soldier slumped over the desk and stared once more at the marking on the bag. 

The black violin was the symbol of the Schwarze Kapelle – the Black Orchestra - the German resistance. The papers that Trowa had held in his hands outlined an intricate plot that could change the tide of the war, and history itself.

"God help us." He traced the figure with the bare tips of his fingers as sleep wrapped its arms around him and drew him into a warm embrace. 

******************************************************

Quatre blinked, then squeezed his eyes shut to avoid the bright rays pouring into his room. Why oh why had he forgotten to close the curtains last night? _It's still early_, the medic reasoned, turning over and grabbing the nearest pillow. He buried his face in the soft darkness. _That girl is probably still sleep--_

A loud snorting sound cut into his thoughts and Quatre raised his head. He squinted through the assault of light, searching for the source of the offensive noise. His bleary eyes settled on the slumbering figure of Duo Maxwell sprawled on the armchair by the fireplace. The braided soldier was snoring away like a grizzly bear in the Lincoln Park Zoo back home in Chicago. 

With a groan, Quatre pulled another pillow over his head and hauled the quilt on top. His mind wandered back to the German girl, and why she had come to the Sanq Kingdom. She had said she was looking for a mysterious man named Darlian, but Quatre had decided that what she really needed was a warm bed and something to eat. The others had smuggled her upstairs to Duo's room, brought her some food and left her to rest. A pang of guilt tugged at his heart for hiding the girl from Miss Relena, but with her brother still in the Manor, they had felt it was the wisest decision - especially if Hilde was they suspected her to be: a spy.

The sound of what could have been a chainsaw filtered in through the many layers of cotton and down. His pillows provided little defense against his comrade's snoring. Finally, Quatre gave up on trying to sleep and decided to go see how Heero was feeling. The Army Captain's wound had looked angry and red after the punishment he had received at the hands of Zechs Merquise. Sally had restitched a small section of flesh that had torn open, but Quatre had been surprised that his friend wasn't in worse shape. For all the fever Heero had been running, the injury was farther advanced in the healing stage than the medic had imagined possible. 

Quatre slid out of bed and tiptoed passed the spot where Duo slept near the fire, and slowly opened the door. He stepped out into the hallway, only to be met by Wufei Chang, who stood leaning against the wall just outside of Hilde's room.

"Is everything all right?" Quatre whispered, looking over the haggard soldier. He wore the same clothes as when they parted company last evening, and there was no missing the dark circles that had formed under his eyes. "Have you been here all night?"

"Well someone has to make sure she doesn't try anything." Wufei sniffed and glared at blond man across from him. "You're all too trusting."

"You don't believe her, Wufei?"

"I just find it a little too coincidental that she showed up the same day the Nazis did. And I for one can't sleep with the scum swarming around this place." 

Quatre scratched his head while his sleep fogged brain fought to sort through all the details. "Why should that make a difference? She traveled on foot; she obviously didn't arrive with them."

"That doesn't mean a thing," Wufei said, crossing his arms. "She has an affiliation with the enemy. She came from Berlin."

Quatre took a step closer in hopes to better control the volume of their conversation with his proximity to the other man. He stared at his comrade a moment then shook his head. "I believe that she's telling us the truth. How could someone make up a story like that? And just think of what it must have been like for her, after what the Nazis did to her father. None of us have had to live through what she has."

"Speak for yourself, Winner. I know how it feels to watch family die and be helpless to stop it."

Quatre bowed his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your brother… I'm sorry…"

"You're not the only one!" Wufei raged. "I blame them all. Each and every one of them. Every single time I look at one of those officers, I see my brother, dead in a coffin. And how you can sleep so easy with them here, I will never know."

The blond soldier felt a shiver run up his spine, and he sank against the hard wood panel of the door. "I haven't slept easy since I left home. If I'm not completely exhausted enough to pass right out, I see it all when I close my eyes. Like a movie, over and over; I see blood. I smell smoke and hear the screams of dying men. I see Normandy. I see senseless death. I don't know if there will ever be a time when I won't."

"I know what you mean," Wufei said. "It's just that… I don't want anyone else to have to know what that feels like, even that bastard Zechs Merquise. This woman, Relena, is standing up to the Reich. If more people had done what she's doing, perhaps there wouldn't have been a war in the first place. So," the soldier squared his shoulders and continued, "until we're sure about the girl, we shouldn't let our guard down."

Quatre smiled and turned to leave. Just like Heero, Wufei had his own, rather uncommon way of expressing gratitude. "I'm just going to go check on Heero."

"He left his room a few minutes ago," Wufei said. "The Lightning Count is supposed to go back to Germany this morning. I suppose Yuy wanted to wish him bon voyage." The soldier snorted his derision. "I didn't hear any glass shattering or screaming, so I assume there was no fighting."

"Oh, well, that's…good…" Quatre trailed off. A span of more than a few hours without injury for Heero seemed to be a rare occurrence from what he had witnessed in the last few weeks. But, the day was still young. "We'll take what we can get," he mumbled. "I'll be right over here if Miss Hilde wakes up. Why don't you go get yourself something to eat?"

Wufei nodded and took his leave in the direction of the kitchen.

******************************************************

Zechs knew the volume of his voice was on the rise, but had no desire to contain it. It echoed loudly in his ears, bouncing off the marbled halls of his childhood home. "I can't believe what a fool she's being. And she's the leader of a country."

"But Zechs, she's in love." Noin placed a calming hand on his forearm, but he shrugged away from her touch and glared at the woman beside him.

"That's exactly the point. How can she be so irresponsible?"

"Love isn't being irresponsible."

"But putting your people's lives in danger, falling for some…some sneaking coward, some lying…" His fist slammed down on a nearby hall table. The vase of flowers on the marble top rattled, but Noin raced to catch it before it tipped over. 

"He seems to care about her," she said, toying with the newly disheveled blossoms. "I heard the others…"

"The others lie. He lies. And she's too caught up in his sick routine to see the truth. Sick. BAH!"

He swiveled around and stomped down the hall, intent on finding that damn American and finishing their "discussion" from yesterday. Noin moved in front of him, blocking his path. "Zechs, I know it's hard for you to understand. But try to see it from her perspective. She cares about him, obviously very much. She wants to protect him, and that's a very noble thing. I know how she feels…." 

"She's being stubborn just to spite me. To spite me for leaving. Well, this world isn't one big party where she's always the guest of honor." Zechs pressed forward, but Noin stood her ground.

"She doesn't think that. She has a good head on her shoulders, and a good heart. I'll admit she's stubborn, but I think she must come by it honestly." A hint of a smile formed on her lips. Zechs scowled as his assistant continued. 

"I don't see it as a weakness in her, but rather something that does her credit. She knows her mind, and she knows her heart. Just because you don't agree with her choice…"

"He's up to something. I can tell by the way he acts. He's not sick, and why he's pretending…"

The click of a doorknob startled him out of his tirade, and he spun around to come face to face with the object of his disgust. Heero's uniform shirt was not buttoned, and fell open in the front. The electric light caught on something white nestled close to his side. Zechs stared. The soldier's entire right flank was heavily bandaged – the side he had connected with in the last of their fight. 

Dark sapphire eyes glinted dangerously as Heero paused only a moment before pushing passed the older man towards the kitchen. 

As he walked on, Noin's voice called out. "Good morning, Heero." Zechs frowned down at her again.

Heero stopped, pivoted, and met the eyes of the Reich colonel's assistant. He nodded politely in acknowledgement of her greeting, then leveled another glare at Zechs before walking away.

"He's been injured. And from the looks of it…" Noin said in a hushed voice.

"I know." He gently took her arm in a signal to let him by. Noin relented. Zechs followed the American soldier down the hallway, after giving the man a lengthy head start. The Colonel found him in the kitchen, leaning heavily on the counter – his pale face covered with a fresh sheen of perspiration. 

_"At least he's in no condition to seduce her."_ Zechs watched the younger man continue to struggle for a moment, then sense of honor almost got the best of him. His legs moved without prior approval from his brain, but before he made it far enough into the kitchen to be noticed, the Chinese-looking pilot arrived from the other entrance.

"Yuy."

Heero stood up quickly; his jaw clenched in a tight line and a spasm shuddered through his body.

"At the risk of sounding like Quatre, you shouldn't be out of bed."

"I was thirsty." Heero's voice rasped when he spoke. He seemed out of breath. "I should be able to get my own glass of water."

Wufei raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised her Highness would let you try."

Dark eyes drifted away as Heero made slow progression to the countertop. "She's…asleep." 

The wounded soldier tried to lift the nearly full water pitcher. Zechs could see the muscles in the man's neck straining from the effort until the other soldier took hold. 

"Here, allow me."

Heero refused to relinquish his grip on the glass handle. "I'm fine."

"I saw the fight, and I know where he hit you," his friend argued, wrestling the vessel away with little trouble. "Sally said it reopened your wound."

"I said, I'm fine."

Wufei ignored him and moments later, slid a filled glass over to his comrade. "Your stubbornness will get you killed one day. It was a miracle the Sanq kingdom took us in. Those Nazi bastards loved beating the crap out of you."

A shaking hand raised the drink to his pale lips. "At least nothing's changed."

"Ha. Yeah, guess you're right." The other pilot offered an arm to the reluctant patient. "Come on, I'll help you back…"

"No. I can walk on my own." Heero shrugged away from the offer of help and started towards the door. Wufei rolled his eyes and fell into step beside him.

"Fine. Have it your way. Mind if I tag along?"

Heero nodded. The two soldiers exited the way the injured soldier came in and Zechs quickly retreated into the shadows of the opposite hallway. He stared at the floor, fighting to take in deep, calming breaths despite the rage that swelled in his chest. 

_The enemy should have a single face, and a single name. They should remain anonymous, inhuman, if at all possible. It's the only way a soldier is able to sleep at night._

__

******************************************************

The two friends came to the end of the corridor, stopping in front of the injured man's room. Heero steadied himself against the wall and moved to open the door, when another spasm of pain hit, and he almost lost his balance. Wufei reached out and grabbed the water glass before it could slip from his grasp.

"Mornings are always worse. Get some rest."

"Hn." Heero held fast to the door, and glanced at the other pilot out of the corner of his eye. Wufei let out a breath and shook his head.

"I'm already aware that she's in there. She wasn't in her room this morning, and I'm not an idiot. I just happen to know you're in no condition to do anything dishonorable, even if you wanted to."

"Hn." Heero held his breath and opened the door. He took a staggering step into his room, then turned to shut it. 

Wufei's eyes widened as he caught sight of the young princess actually lying in his comrade's bed. Though still fully clothed, Heero knew it pushed the bounds of what others considered proper. The injured soldier sent the Chinese man a warning glare. Wufei shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away. 

"I hope you know what you're doing, he said as Heero closed the door once again.

He lowered himself inch by inch back into the bed. It was still early, and though he had been wide awake when he first ventured from his room, his eyelids felt pounds heavier as he stole a sidelong glance at the beautiful, sleeping girl beside him. 

It had felt so strange to wake up and see her face so close - her warm body occupying the space next to him on the mattress. He had felt the desire to reach out and stroke her hair, to make sure it wasn't a dream. As the flaxen threads slipped through his fingers, a rare smile had formed on his face. It had occurred to him, then, that Relena would be sad to have missed the extraordinary expression.

He sunk into the sheets and blankets, his eyes still trying to stay open – to watch her until whatever dream this was disappeared with the morning mist. It couldn't be true and it couldn't be real…but her presence was a pleasant illusion. Sleep finally took him, settling over his body like the serene sigh that escaped her lips.

"Heero…"

Light tore his mind from sleep; his eyelids dragged slowly open to take in whatever situation the soldier in him must face. But instead of rutted ground shuddering beneath terrifying explosions, he woke to serenity and warmth – and the beauty of her face merely inches away. She smiled in her sleep as if everything in her dreaming wonderland was perfect and safe. He felt his heart sigh and the strange desire to stay exactly as he was - to just watch her breathe. With effort, he rolled his painful body over to completely face her; his right arm darted out, drawing her closer. She stirred a bit and then burrowed farther into his embrace.

Just as he had settled back into the pillowed surface behind his head, the door swung open and the sound of the bothersome medic's voice interrupted the peaceful quiet of Heero's room.

"Heero, I saw Wufei and-- OH!" Quatre froze in mid-step; his complexion turned an alarming shade of red. "I… um…"

Relena shifted against the injured soldier, and Heero threw the medic a warning look. 

"I-I'm s-sorry." Quatre said. "S-Sally went to look for her in her room…She's normally awake by this time and uh... We just… I didn't mean….Sorry for disturbing you."

He ducked his head and quickly shut the door. Heero waited, his arm still curled around her delicate form.

"And I was having such a nice dream," she whispered, stretching her slender arms up over her head. "I dreamt I was here, with you. You smiled at me and held me like you wanted me to stay and…" She lifted her head and peered up at him through half-opened lids. A smile grazed her lips. "Hm. I must still be asleep." 

She flopped back down on the bed, spilling her hair in a shower of gold across his pillow. Relena pressed closer to him, burying her gentle features into the bared skin of his chest. He could feel her steady breathing wafting against its surface, the heat fusing with the temperature in his veins. Just because he was in no condition to do anything 'dishonorable' didn't mean he was completely immune…. "No."

She drew away and Heero instantly missed the feel of her - the awareness and warmth. Light blue eyes peeked up at him again through layers of sleep. 

"You're not dreaming," he said. "And the others are looking for you. Quatre…"

Her mouth covered his, and she nibbled at his lower lip in a series of small, innocuous kisses. He ducked his head and caught her mouth in a decided conquest. He kissed her more fervently than he should, hoping to alarm her just enough to put a safe distance between them. He broke away, expecting her to retreat from her position, but she stayed where she was – then promptly nestled closer once again.

"I'm glad," she whispered, draping an arm across his chest. "I didn't want to be dreaming."

"Relena…." Damn, she was doing…things to him that made the lower half of his body start to feel uncomfortable. The inner sting of conscience nagged at him to disentangle himself, but then her arm came up to wrap around his waist. He relaxed into her loose embrace, deciding he could deal with the small discomfort and gladly quell the masculine urges he was physically unable to indulge in favor of keeping her right where she was.

Her eyelashes fluttered against his cheek. "How are you feeling? I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault. And I feel fine."

Her fingers gently brushed his forehead, as if unconsciously checking for a fever. "If this is fine, I'd hate to see the shape you were in before you came to my country."

He tensed at her words. Relena lifted her head to look him in the eye. "I didn't mean anything by that except that I know you're not fine. I'm still worried about you, and…"

His hand sought out hers. "I'll be fine, Relena. I promise."

"You'd better be. I need you to get well, and…." 

He dropped his gaze; Heero knew she would only be upset if he told her…

She sat up. "You intend to leave then, don't you? When you're well enough."

He fought his way into an upright position, still maintaining his hold on her hand. "There's a war going on. I can't just stay here and ignore it."

"But…you've done your job, haven't you? I thought Duo said your tour was almost up. Couldn't you be discharged for medical…"

He took a deep breath. It hurt, but not as much as the expression on her face. "I can still fight, Relena, and I don't intend to quit until it's over or…" His eyes darted away. "…until it's over."

"I see." She bowed her head and sighed. "And I understand." She cupped his face in her hands. "I won't argue with you about that when the time comes. But for now, just concentrate on getting well."

He gathered her close once more, trying to dispel the reality that had crept into the air of his room like a faint, but pungent odor. He closed his eyes, just wanting to engrave the feeling of her closeness in his mind. 

"Heero, what about after the war? Where is home?"

His eyes snapped open. She pulled away and sat facing him on the bed. 

"Home?"

"Yes." She smiled. "Your home. I've heard the others speak about their families and towns, people they know…but you never do. I admit my geographical knowledge of the United States isn't what it should be, but I'd like to…."

He felt the corners of his mouth turn downwards. "I thought you knew all you needed to." 

"I do. I just…I'm just curious. I'd like to know more about you, is that wrong?" Relena raised a soft hand to his cheek, but he turned away.

"Why do you need to?"

"I don't need to, I just want to. I'd tell you anything you wanted to know, but I have a feeling you won't ask."

"You don't trust me," Heero said. "Your brother…." _She believes him._

"I have trusted you with my life and my heart." Her voice rose to an angry level. "It is you who appears not to trust me with what should be fairly basic information." Her weight shifted on the mattress, but he couldn't look at her. 

"Do you have something to hide from me? Because I told you from the start you need not bother to pretend…." She sprang from the bed with speed that he currently could not hope to possess and started for the door.

Heero winced with the movement of the mattress. But it wasn't just the pain of his wound causing the ache in his chest to grow. "Home is currently this room." 

The hand that had reached out for the doorknob dropped and she slowly spun to face him. "Before that it was somewhere close to Normandy, France. My last 'home' before leaving the US was a military installation at Ft. Wayne, Indiana."

"But…don't you call your home the place where your family lives?" Relena asked, making her way back to the bed. She sat down on the far edge and folded her hands in her lap. "What about your parents, or brothers and sisters? You don't have someplace or someone waiting for you back home?"

"My uncle raised me. My parents both died when I was very young. I was an only child."

"Oh." She reached out for him, but he turned his head and kept his arms folded.

"Don't tell me you're sorry. I don't need your pity."

He heard her let out a long breath, and then she continued, speaking in a quiet, even tone. "Where is your uncle now?"

Heero looked back and met her eyes once again. "He died shortly before I enlisted."

"I see. So, what was he like – your uncle? Was he married, did he have children of his own?"

"He was a college professor at Perdue University. No wife, no kids – just a stubborn nephew that he raised from the time he was four years old." He caught the hint of a grin on her lips. "Does any of this matter?"

"It matters to me. Every little detail about you matters to me. Don't you understand that caring about someone doesn't mean only caring about the here and now?" She swung her legs up onto the mattress and scooted towards him. "Sometimes, the smallest details can be the most telling, offer the most insight. When I said I loved you, I love you as you are – right here and right now." She leaned in close, leveling her lips just inches from his own. Her fingers threaded through his tangled hair. "Nothing from your past will change how I feel. But I don't want to just love you from a distance. I want to know you."

His body relaxed under her touch in spite of his indignant thoughts. He reached out to the girl before him. "Why me? Why not some descendant from one of the most respected families of Western Europe?"

Relena shook her head and ran her finger along the line of his jaw. "Because they're not you. You have such a kind heart, Heero. Why can't you trust anyone to care about you the way you care for others?" The heat of her breath washed over his face, and he closed his eyes, waiting…. 

"Why can't you believe me when I say I love you?"

"Because I--"

"Heero? Miss Relena?" The unlocked door creaked open, this time more slowly than the last, and the site of familiar, blond hair came into view. "I'm sorry to interrupt again, but… Miss Relena - your brother is prepared to leave. Did you want to see him before he goes?"

Relena squared her shoulders and pulled away from Heero. "Tell him to go. I have… nothing else to say to him."

*****************************************************

Duo rubbed the sleep from his eyes and, with a yawn, stumbled out into the hallway. He staggered a few paces before tripping over some... thing that was lying right in the middle of the hallway. He squinted to try to bring the blurry shape into focus. It was yelling at him.

"Will you watch where you're going?"

Duo blinked, noticing the object was a tightly laced combat boot. He followed the brown leather upwards until it met green fatigues that matched his own, topped off with black hair. Wufei frowned up at him.

"Where are you going?"

"Kitchen. Did I miss breakfast?"

The other soldier rose to his feet and blinked his tired-looking eyes. "You mean lunch. It's about time you got up. The medic is busy running around, and I haven't seen Barton all day."

Duo scratched his head and studied the other man. He looked like he'd been up all night. "Why are you sitting out here?"

"Do you trust her?" Wufei pointed at the closed door behind his head. _She must still be asleep._ The image of her collapsing in his arms played again in his mind, and Duo nodded.

"I… I think I do."

A scowl formed on the other man's face. "Well, I don't. So keep an eye on the door and make sure she doesn't go anywhere."

"But what about…" 

Wufei flung open the door to his own room down the hall and disappeared inside without another glance. "…food." _Oh well._

The door slammed loudly behind the sleep-deprived soldier and the noise rattled through the hall as Duo sunk to the carpeted floor and leaned against the wall. At times, the Peacecraft Manor reminded him a little of the church where he'd spent the last years of his childhood. The building felt big, important, as if you should be pious and reverent just to walk through it, let alone live there.

The urgent sound of footsteps and the jingle of a doorknob pulled him out of his thoughts. She stood there in the shadow of the doorway - the same wild-eyed look on her face - only this time, it was a well-rested, wild-eyed look.

"Where is it?"

Hilde charged out of the room and pinned him against the wall before he even managed to stand completely up.

"What?" Duo blinked. "Where's--"

"The documents. My bag!" She pounded her fist against the wall. "Where is it! You took it!"

"I took it."

Trowa's tall figure appeared over her shoulder, and Duo watched the girl whirl around, though still unsteady on her feet.

"You had no right." She choked back a sob as anger washed her face in a deeper shade of crimson. "How dare you."

"Keep your voice down. Do you want Zechs Merquise to hear you?"

Her livid complexion instantly paled. "Zechs Merquise?"

Trowa crossed his arms and spoke to the girl in his usual, unaffected tone. "Yes, the Reich's infamous Lightning Count. He's here. And I believe that his visit has something to do with what you were carrying."

Hilde brought a hand up to her throat and sank back against the wall. "How could they know?"

"Know what?" Duo looked from one to the other, waiting to be let in on their secret. How the heck did Trowa know so much about what was going on?

"They don't know. But they're suspicious."

Her hands shook and she closed her eyes. She no longer appeared to have the strength to stand. Duo moved to catch her just in case. "Suspicious of who? Would someone like to fill me in?"

Green eyes glittered dangerously. "Why don't you ask her. I'm sure she realizes that she owes us all that much."

"You weren't supposed to be involved," Hilde spat. "Herr Darlian--"

"It's too late. We're involved, now."

Duo stared up at the taller man. "Too late for what, Trowa?"

The communications officer glanced from Duo to Hilde. "To keep this kingdom from being implicated. Your people had better know what they're doing."

Hilde nodded, her complexion regaining some of its former color. "I believe in them. They will not fail."

"Okay, I'm seriously lost. Trowa? Hilde?"

Trowa took a step closer; his focus seemed to be completely on the girl from Germany. "You realize what will happen if they do? It won't be just this kingdom, it will be every name in that book you carried in here. And their families."

"They know. I know. And most of us…We do not worry about ourselves. It is worth any sacrifice to stop him." She lowered her gaze to the floor. "I try not to think of all the lives that could have been spared if we had acted sooner."

Trowa narrowed his eyes at young woman. "And I try not to think of all the lives that will be lost if you fail."

****************************************************

Relena stood at the window and looked down. Her brother—No, SS Colonel Zechs Merquise and his entourage climbed into their waiting vehicles and prepared to leave. 

_"Why? Why are you leaving?" She looked up at her brother's silhouette in the doorway. "When are you coming back?"_

_"I cannot stay here, and tolerate this poorly disguised tyranny any longer." His normally calm voice practically growled. "Our father is a hypocrite. And holds others--" _

_"He's leaving because he is no longer welcome here. He is not my son." King Peacecraft entered the room from the hallway. His tall figure cast its shadow across the rug and engulfed his daughter's much smaller one. She stared up at him with pleading eyes._

_"Father, please!"_

_"Your words have long since ceased to wound," Milliard said. He kept his back toward them, and wouldn't turn around. "Your disowning me as your son just saves me the trouble of having to relinquish the throne." He slammed the door shut behind him._

_"Brother, don't go!" Relena rushed after him, yelling at the top of her lungs. "Please…"_

_He never looked back._

_"Don't go."_

She closed her eyes and felt a single tear escape from the corner of her eye. A gentle hand traced its path. The sides of her mouth turned up as his touch continued down to her jaw line and tilted up her chin. His breath was warm on her cheek, but lingered longer than she wanted. 

Relena cracked her eyelids to gaze up into endless dark blue eyes. He stood, just staring at her, as if time and the world had stopped for only them.

"I promise, Relena…."

"I've turned it over and over in my mind. How can I send my people off to die? How can I invite this war into my country?"

His voice was low and quiet. "It's coming. Whether you want it or not."

A knock sounded at the door. "Miss Relena?"

"One moment," she said, and turned back to Heero. "I promised you yesterday. I will listen to what you have to say on the matter. But Quatre needs to check your bandages, and you need to eat to keep up your strength. We can meet in my office in an hour. I'm afraid you have all the advantage when you hold me like this."

He blinked then stepped back and released her from his loose embrace. "That's not why…"

"I know. I believe you. I trust you."

The door inched open. "Miss Relena?"

"Please take care of him, Quatre." Her eyes focused on the motorcade that had just begun to pull out of the drive. 

Heero turned and took her arm, forcing her to look at him. "An hour," he said; his forehead creased above his brow in a serious expression. She nodded and he let her go, then followed the medic from the room – leaving her alone.

Her brother's car, the one holding the highest-ranking officer, was last. It idled, giving the other vehicles a substantial head start. For a moment, she thought he might come back….

_"I will not be able to make it back, Relena." She doubted his voice only sounded distant because of the connection._

_"It's his funeral, Milliard. Whatever differences--"_

_"He disowned me, remember? He was not my father."_

_"Please come back. I'm not ready for this. I can't do this on my own. Not alone. Please, brother--"_

The automobile lurched forward, following the other cars down the drive.

_"It's not my place, Relena. Get married if you don't want to be alone." The connection clicked and then her earpiece vibrated with the final sound of the dial tone. He wasn't coming back. _

__

_You've never been here when I needed someone. When I had doubts. When I failed or made mistakes. When father died. When I was left to pick up the pieces at the age of sixteen. _

_You've not been a brother since you left all those years ago. _

Relena's hands came up to touch the glass. Her knees felt like wobbling jelly, and she leaned on the window for support. The legs gave out beneath her dress, and she collapsed to the floor in a heap of blue silk.

_How can I face this alone?_

The Mercedes drove on, growing further away with every passing moment. She followed it with her eyes until it became a distant speck on the horizon.

Until he was gone.


	8. ch 7: joining the Allies, I place this n...

AN: The apologies get old after a while, don't they?  

Readers: *glare*

Rose: MEEP! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!  Stella and I are both very very sorry for the delay.  Have a cookie? *extends virtual cookies in a Christmas tin*

ACROSS ENEMY LINES

By Stella and the Black Rose

CHAPTER 7

If in the hour of death the conscience is at peace, the mind need not be troubled. The future is full of doubt, indeed, but fuller still of hope.

 John Lubbock

A single light bulb hung like a beacon in the center of the underground room.  Mold clung to the jagged stones; and patches of green moss carpeted the floor in clumps.  A shadowy figure known only as "Darlian" inhaled the stale air and fought the urge to shiver.  This place would have to do – a basement, cold and damp; it smelled like death.  

_That's only fitting.  What we discuss here could land all of us in our graves. And will, if we fail._

            Old chairs creaked and groaned; bodies shifted in the darkness.  Darlian's eyes traveled over the barely discernable faces who gathered around the table for what would be the last time.  They were a varied group indeed; comprised of doctors, clergy, bookkeepers, and farmers; old men, young men, some of them still children.  There were members of Europe's oldest noble families.  Others were soldiers in Hitler's own army.   Their backgrounds didn't matter, though.  Titles and occupations were of little concern.  They were family now - all tied together with a bond of death in the secret world of The Black Orchestra.   

Darlian's gloved hand pushed a stack of documents into the dim light.  The bulb's yellow glow caught on the swastika emblem boldly printed on the first page and a hush fell over the room.

            "This, my friends, is the final step of 'Valkyrie.'  German communications that we've intercepted, confirm that the Führer will be in Rastenburg on the twenty-first of July.  Several of the top SS officials will be there as well.  This is the best chance we have of ridding the world of these murderers in one strike - forever."

            The silhouettes around the table nodded.  Some sat up straight, as if prepared for the mission that lay ahead.  Others bowed their heads, some wept.  For them, Darlian knew, this was vengeance.  For the rest, it was an act of conscience.

            "How will we do it?" a voice spoke up from the dark.  "Certainly Hitler will be well protected."

            "We have an operative close to the Führer who will carry out his execution.  A messenger was dispatched to the Sanq Kingdom with the details, so I must return there."  Darlian rose and leaned forward on the table.  Shining eyes stared back.

            "Be ready on the twenty-first.  Your instructions will arrive shortly." The speaker looked at each person in turn.  "Pray for our success and for the souls who have been lost. 

"Ask them to watch over us.  Ask God to grant us victory, if for nothing else than their sakes."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Quatre wrapped a bandage around Hilde's wrist and glanced up at his fellow soldiers.  "I haven't seen Miss Relena all morning.  Or Miss Sally, either.  Come to think of it, she hasn't been in the medical ward since she sewed up Heero's wound two nights…" He paused when he finally took in his friends' appearances. They were still wearing yesterday's clothes; faces unshaven and their complexions ashen.  The medic frowned. "…ago."   He looked back at Hilde's bandage long enough to fasten it.  "Were you guys up all night?"  

Trowa nodded.  "We've been trying to decide on the best course of action," his tired eyes fell on Hilde, "given this new information."

            The girl pulled her hand away from the medic and stood to face the much taller communications officer.  The deepening flush in her cheeks was difficult to miss, and when she spoke, the words came through clenched teeth.  "You will not try to stop us.  If you do, you're no better than the Nazis.  So many people have risked their lives to--"

            Quatre moved and tried to put himself between the two of them, but Duo beat him to it.  The braid-wearing soldier stepped forward and put a hand on Hilde's shoulder. "We're trying to figure out how to help you.  Calm down. You won't get better if you don't." He glanced at Quatre and shook his head. "Sheesh, what a temper."

            "There's nothing wrong with me," Hilde said.  She clasped the injured limb and held it to her chest.  "It's just a sprained wrist."

            "This is a wasted effort," Wufei said.  "There have been other attempts on Hitler's life over the years.  And obviously, not one of them succeeded.  Why should we believe this plan will be any different?"

            "For all these years, they have planned it."  Hilde returned to her seat across from Quatre.  The medic felt his heart grow heavy when the stricken expression once again reached her face.  "The resistance would devise a scheme, but then… members would be found, killed, or forced to flee.  This is our last chance."

            Quatre noticed Duo's hand still on the girl's shoulder.  The young man gave her arm a light squeeze; it seemed to make her smile.

            "And I haven't yet said thank you."  She raised her eyes and looked up at each of them in turn.  "You've been very good to take care of me."

            "We're only returning the kindness that's been given to us," Quatre said.  "Though I do think it's time we introduce you to Miss Relena.  Now that the SS is gone, it should be safe enough.  And Heero… Has anyone told Heero about all this yet?  Every time I checked on him yesterday, he was asleep."

            Trowa rubbed a hand over his face and took a seat next to Quatre.  "No.  We agreed to let him rest."

Duo let out a whistle.  "What's it been now – a whole day without him getting beat up?  I think it must be a personal record for the guy."

  "But we should discuss it with him today – perhaps before we make it known to the princess," Trowa continued.  "It might be easier for her to hear if it came from him."  The medic suppressed a grin at his friend's last comment, which was exceedingly difficult with the sound of Duo's snickering echoing through the room.

            Hilde's forehead creased into a bewildered expression.  "This Heero… he's one of you?  And he knows Princess Relena well?"

"I'll fill ya in later on," Duo winked.  Wufei shot the other soldier a withering glance, but the grinning man ignored it.

            Trowa clasped his hands together and leaned in towards Hilde.  "Before we talk to Heero, or the Princess, or try to get in touch with the Allied forces, what we really need now is more information – from you.  You keep mentioning a person named 'Darlian.'  Who is he?"

            "I have never met Herr Darlian in person," Hilde confessed.  "My involvement with him is mostly by communications sent through operatives in Berlin.  It is my belief that he was a friend of my father's."

            "Let me ask you… Do you know for sure that Herr Darlian is – is really a man?"

            Hilde's eyes were wide.  Quatre's gaze flicked between them both and finally settled on his comrade.  "What are you talking about, Trowa?"

            "I don't think I told you how I decoded the papers she was carrying," the communications officer said, gesturing towards the lone woman in the group.  "I found the code book in the medical wing."

            "One of the patients?" Duo ventured a guess.

            Trowa shook his head.  "No, I don't think so.  I'm pretty sure it belonged to the doctor."

            Wufei sat down across from Trowa and sent the other soldier a hateful glare.  "She wouldn't be that foolish.  She would know that if she were caught, this kingdom would be overrun by the Reich faster than she could blink."

            "Perhaps she doesn't see it as foolish.  Or maybe she thinks she'd only be risking herself," Trowa said.  "But think about it.  It makes the most sense."

            "Are you sure it's not the princess?" Wufei countered with a snarl.  "She could be trying to fool everyone into thinking she's a pacifist by keeping the country neutral while having a brother in the SS the whole time she's involved in a plot to kill his boss."

            "You heard her talking to Merquise," Trowa said.  "It's not her.  She couldn't lie to him."

Quatre opened his mouth, but couldn't find any words.  Thoughts spun around in his head at light speed – ideas that had never occurred to him before, suspicions that never would have crossed his mind.  He pursed his lips together and waited for the others to continue.

 Duo moved forward and crouched beside Hilde's chair.  "If I can put my two cents in…  What if there's just an actual guy named Darlian?"

            Wufei snorted.  "Nice try, Maxwell."

            "I'm serious.  We don't know how far this thing goes.  Hilde said herself that it's been in the works for years – it's not impossible."

            The German girl sat up straighter in her seat.  "There was a diplomat – an emissary of Germany several years back.  His name was Darlian.  It was well known that he opposed Hitler's rise to power.  He disappeared shortly before the Führer was elected.  Most people believe that he was assassinated by Hitler's men.  It's possible that he may still be alive. But I can tell you that no one involved in the Black Orchestra really thinks the one we call Darlian is truly him…"

 "Maybe he thinks he's fooling them by using his real name," Duo added.  "You can't hunt a dead man." 

            "They're trying," Hilde said.  "The Gestapo.  They're looking for him.  I saw telegrams when I worked in the offices back in Berlin, and then at the homes of other resistance members – orders we've intercepted.  After all these years, they're still looking for him.  But they've followed leads all over Europe.  No one has seen him, at least not that the SS can document."

             Quatre turned to Trowa.  "But, other than the book you found, Trowa, why do you suspect Miss Sally?"

            "She has a military background.  And the princess granted her sanctuary here, but I don't know why."

            "She was caught helping Jewish families flee Germany and Austria."  All eyes in the room turned to Wufei.  He let out a sigh and leaned back into the chair. "Her husband was a doctor, too; they worked at a hospital in Strasburg.  A lot of their colleagues were Jewish and they didn't want to sit by and watch their friends be slaughtered.  He paid for it with his life, and they were going to send her to a camp, but she escaped."

            Hilde let out a gasp.  Quatre's chest tightened.  He had still been a child back in Chicago, arguing with his sisters and going to movies when this was happening.  "How did you find out, Wufei?"

 "She told me.  Shortly after my brother was buried.  That's why… " He stood up and pounded a fist on the arm of his chair.  "She knows the risk of something like this.  I can't believe that she would—"

            A light shuffling sound drew Quatre's attention.  When the medic looked up, Heero was already making his way towards them, his eyes locked on Hilde.  Quatre jumped to his feet and rushed to Heero's side, but the injured soldier shrugged out of the blond man's grasp and steadied himself on his own.

            "Hey, buddy," Duo hailed him.  "Long time no see.  You feelin' any better?"  

            Heero barely acknowledged his friend's greeting and kept his stare fixed on the stranger.  Trowa scooted over from his place on the sofa and made room for the new arrival.            The documents Hilde carried had since been spread out on the table, and Quatre could see his friend's gaze settle on the swastikas that were stamped on the pages.

            "What is all this?"  Heero's voice rapsed.  He picked up one of the now worn sheets, a map, and held the document up to the light of the window.

            "Heero," Quatre said, gesturing towards the dark-haired young woman.  "There's something we have to tell you."

*                      *                      *                      *                      *

The door closed softly behind him and she could hear the tap of footsteps that marked his slow progression across the room.  Relena didn't have to look up to know who was there; she had been expecting him.

"How are you feeling today, Heero?"  Her eyes found his from across the room and she gave him a smile.  "You're looking healthier.  There's even some color in your--"

"Where were you?  Yesterday.  We were supposed to discuss—"

"I'm sorry.  But Quatre said you'd fallen asleep, and then I had…"  Relena drew in a deep breath and turned back to her paperwork.  "I still have duties to attend to within the Sanq Kingdom, regardless of the war.  It was always my hope, and still is, to keep my people as untouched by this devastation as I can."

Quicker than she thought possible in his condition, he was standing directly in front of her desk with fists clenched on the dark wood surface. "It's not possible.  Relena, certainly you're not so blinded by your brother--"

            "I'm not blinded by anything.  I think I'm looking at things more clearly than you."

 He leaned in closer until she could feel the light touch of his breath on her bare arms.  The weight of his stare was making the air around her desk feel heavy and stifling.  "The only way to protect your country is to join--"  

The princess shot up from her chair.  "By joining the Allies, I place this nation directly in the path of Hitler's army.  We have no weapons, no standing military.  We'd be completely dependent on your forces. I hardly see what use the Allies would have for us."

            Heero shook his head.  "It's a matter of strategy. By having a stronghold in this kingdom, we will have gained ground against the German army occupying France.   And you have a national guard."

            "But what guarantees do I have that my men will be treated fairly? What assurances will your government give that my kingdom will be a matter of priority in your defense? And can you make such an agreement?"

            The American pilot straightened his posture and crossed his arms.  Relena could see the sweat beading on his forehead.  He began to move around the desk.  "What guarantees do you have with Hitler? Will he treat your men fairly, when he invades this nation and kills them? Will he consider you, or your people, when he bombs it, when you surrender, when he conquers?"

            Relena had to look away.  "He…he may not.  We have remained--"  

"You can't stay out of this, Relena.  You took us in, and look what happened.  The whole east side of your palace is gone.  And that's _with_ your brother's protection.  Without it, you're lost.  The only way I can protect you is to side with us."  He was beside her now.  She could feel the warmth of his body mere inches away.  

Relena squeezed her eyes shut.  It would have been so easy to lean into his embrace, to feel his strong arms close around her.  She tried not to imagine uttering the words of surrender or allowing herself the comfort they might bring.   

"Will you stay then?  If I agree to join the Allies, will you stay here to protect this kingdom instead of returning to the Western Front?"  It was a selfish request, she knew.  But she feared and was sure she already knew his answer.

            "No. I can't do that."

            "I see."  She wrenched herself free from his grasp and stepped away.

            "Relena…"

            "Then…will you come back?"  She whirled around to face him again.  Her voice was shaking despite her attempt to keep it mellow and even.  "When it's over?  When the mighty Allied forces have saved the world from certain destruction… Will--will I see you again?"

            He wouldn't meet her gaze.

            She choked and turned away again.  The air became think and tangible in the silence.   "I have to think on this, to have some time, alone, to consider every consequence.  I will give you my answer before dinner."

            "Relee--"

            "Do not be concerned that my emotions will cloud my judgment."

            She heard his hand turn the knob on the door; it was opened.  "You'll be a queen."

            Relena squared her shoulders, but refused to turn around.  "Yes. Yes, I will….  And so I thank you for your service and personally recommend that you go back to your room and rest."

            The door shut behind him, and she felt the last of the strength leave her body.  She leaned back on the desk for support.  

Determined footsteps sounded an instant before he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

            "Don't treat me like an invalid, Relena. If you have something to say to me, just say it."

            "And what do you want to hear?  That you're right? That I can't love you and therefore don't love you.  That you'll never be worthy of my affection or anyone else's for that matter… What do you want me to say, Heero?  Because I'm not going to lie and say those things just because you believe them to be true."

            "Why?  How can you possibly--  I can't love you, Relena. I can't be what you want, no, what you need! You need a man that can be a king."

            "How dare you be the one to decide that for me.  My whole life…" She stopped.  He wouldn't understand.   Relena sank back into her chair and pretended to study the papers there. "Just go… Please…Go back to your room and rest."

            "It's what's best for you and your country, Relena." He started towards the door.  

            Her hands trembled at her sides, and she had the childish urge to just pick up the vase on her desk and throw it at him.  

He paused at the door, his head bowed as he spoke to the floor.  "It…" He stiffened and looked up at her from across the room.  "I'm sorry."  

            Without another word, he turned and left.  
            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            The chalet was tucked into the side of a mountain, the rooftop barely visible over the flourish of trees and a craggy overhang of grey rocks.  The place itself was a massive structure, built of the same grey stone; flowering vines crawled up its sides and met the latticed windows on the floors above. It seemed a castle, really – hidden away from the world. 

Zechs scanned the horizon and found the small turret on the eastern side that overlooked a wooded valley.  He had stood there once with Treize and other SS commanders while they watched the first rays of a long ago summer sun filter through the mist and give way to the bluest of skies.  Then he had been handed his orders along with a half dozen other young officers who were present and sent to out to kill the inhabitants of a ghetto in Poland.  That day the blue skies had faded into darkness.  Upon leaving the Sanq Kingdom for this place, a part of his heart had been frozen and lost to the shadows.  It was years past - the terrified faces of his targets were now nothing more than ghosts in his mind.  But he remembered the feeling.

            _This is wrong, this is murder._  _I am a traitor to my name._

But as time wore on, the Reich became his new family; a replacement for the one who exiled him.  His superior officers were strong where his father had been weak.  All who opposed them fell.  They were not afraid of using weapons and men to their fullest potential.  They believed in something other than foolish, unachievable philosophies of pacifism.  The men of the Reich were something tangible.  And he had become one of them. They accepted him and praised his strength, when his father had told him to change his ways of thinking and stay his hand.  The officers were grateful for his company; they  clapped him on the back and told him how they'd always wished for a son… like him.  Even after another had sent him away.

_Peacecraft.  The name betrayed me first._

And although he was once again leaving that accursed name behind, it followed without invitation.  Peacecraft.  When he had seen Relena and the word 'brother' had tumbled from her lips, he felt again.  The kingdom that had once encased his heart in ice, had threatened to thaw it.  The sensation was painful in his chest, like life coming back to limbs that had fallen asleep and gone numb.  Then he had seen her, in the arms of that American soldier.  She had chosen to protect the enemy.  

_Betrayal.  Again._

The car lurched to a stop and Zechs snapped out of his half-dream.  A hand gently brushed against his and he heard Noin's voice asking if everything was alright.  He nodded and stepped out into the blinding sunlight.

They followed a servant just as quickly into the dark, cool entrance of the structure.  The Kushranada family had kept this home for generations and it had the same stale, haughty air of antiquity that hung in some of the rooms of the Peacecraft Manor. After climbing two flights of stairs and winding their way through a maze of hallways, a door was opened before them.  Zechs and Noin stepped into an airy, circular room where a light breeze billowed through curtains that covered the tall windows.  They could see the figure of a lone man standing on the balcony beyond.  He turned when the door closed, and with poised, graceful steps, started towards them.

Zechs snapped his heels together and extended his arm.  "Heil Hitler."

"Heil Hitler," Treize returned in a cool tone.  "At ease, Colonel Zechs.  Good afternoon, Miss Noin."

"Good afternoon, sir."

Treize paced around an expansive Persian rug and settled into a leather armchair in front of the fireplace.  He gestured for his guests to follow suit.  The butler quickly flew to his master's side and poured the officer a drink.  Zechs and Noin politely declined, and the elder Peacecraft sat quietly as his superior swirled the dark red liquid in his glass and took a small sip.

"A messenger from your envoy to the Sanq Kingdom preceded your arrival.  I hadn't expected to see you until tomorrow at the earliest."

Zechs stiffened in his seat.  "There was little reason for me to stay.  It was unnecessary to prolong my presence there."

Treize inclined his head and raised the glass to his lips again.  "The messenger spoke of the American soldiers.  So your sister has sided with the Allies?"

A cold sensation washed over Zechs body.  "No.  The Sanq remains neutral.  She is a bleeding heart, though, taking in the wounded.  I believe she would do so for either side.  However, just in this case they happened to be Ameri—"

The superior officer's blue eyes flicked up from his wine.  "This will not sit well with Berlin."

"I am aware of that."

"You're sure they were American soldiers?"

"Yes.  I got a very…"  Flashes of his fight with the dark-haired pilot in the dining room rose in his memory.  "… A very close look."

Treize cocked an eyebrow, and Zechs could see the officer's gaze settle on his bruised knuckles, which were clenching the arms of the chair.  "I see."

"But they were wounded, sir," Noin offered.  "Miss Relena is a very kind person.  I feel certain that she means it as no affront to her brother, or to the Reich, which has been gracious enough to allow her kingdom to remain at peace."

Zechs's head started to pound at Noin's words.  'No affront to her brother…'  His fists tightened, opening the wounds on the back of his hands.

"Colonel Zechs."

"Yes sir?"

"Did you perhaps notice anyone else in your sister's home?  Anyone else that didn't belong there?  Or you, Miss Noin?"

"No, sir."

"No," Zechs answered.   "And neither did any other members of my party, at least to my knowledge.  If I may ask – why?"

Treize set his glass on a nearby table and rose to his feet.  He stepped over to one of the windows and clasped his hands behind his back.  "I've had several reports, mostly from Lady Une and her agents, of some… activity being linked to the Sanq Kingdom.  But we know how convoluted some of this information can be.  I'm sure I can convince the Führer that they are unfounded.  However…"

Zechs moved to the edge of his seat.  "Yes, sir?"

"I think it would behoove us to station someone there."  His eyes turned to Lucrezia.  "I'm sure you can convince your sister that as an act of good faith, it is in her best interests to allow Miss Noin to stay and keep a watch over the Sanq Kingdom – in case there happen to be further incidents that might require our attention there."

"I can't speak for her, sir."

"I feel fairly certain that she would choose Miss Noin's presence over a full scale military occupation. Wouldn't you?"

Zechs responded only by setting his jaw and nodding stiffly.

"Very well," Trieze nodded.  "Miss Noin, I will arrange to have your things shipped from your quarters in Germany.  I will need a short while to draft a letter to the princess and then you can be on your way."

Noin gave a slight bow and smiled, but her expression faded into a more serious one when the General spoke again.  "There is a name I want you to listen for, Miss Noin.  And report back to me and only me, immediately, if you hear it."

"Yes, General Treize?"

"The name is Darlian.  Do not forget it.  Darlian.  Now if you'll excuse us, Miss Noin. There is something I wish to discuss alone with the Colonel."                                    

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      Relena stared out the window; the natural, waning light of the day stole in through the glass to touch her hair and paint it the color of spun gold.  He felt a sharp pain in his chest when he remembered how it felt like silk….

            "I've made my decision."  Her voice was calm and clear, but very quiet.  He took a step closer, retracing his path from earlier that day.

            "Peygan said you did."

            "It's not an easy one.  Either way, I'm sending men to their deaths.  At least, if what you say is true.  And I have no reason to doubt your…assessment of the situation."

            He waited.  This was difficult for her, but he knew, from the way she spoke, whatever decision she had made, it was now firmly seated in her mind.  She spoke to the glass; he could just make out a dim reflection of her face in the window.  She'd been crying.  Blood thrummed loudly in his ears, but didn't drown out her voice as she continued.

            "I don't expect you to understand.  I'm sure my life must seem like…Something it truly isn't.  I wasn't supposed to be queen of this kingdom.  I was born the youngest child and merely a daughter of the king.  My elder brother was supposed to take a wife and they would rule as king and queen once our parents passed away.

            "He left home when I was ten – disowned, by my father.  I'd heard all the fairy tales about princesses and their princes, kings and their queens.  But they never had to choose to send flesh and blood people to go to war.  And I do."

            "Relena…"

            He wanted to reach out for her, to rest his hands on the slender shoulders that seemed to carry the weight of so many decisions – and so many lives.  Heero drew nearer and his arm moved of its own volition, but dropped back to his side when she spoke again.

            "I never wanted to be queen.  But when my father died…. I was sixteen when this burden, this service was given to me.  I started training when I was eleven.  I never got to go to school with regular children.  I was shut away to learn advanced subjects like geography, history, diplomacy.  I suppose your childhood wasn't much better…."

            "I was expected to do a lot of things, but never to run a country."

            "But losing your parents so young… Joining the army."  She sighed and rested her whole body against the wood that framed the glass.  "I can't imagine the things you've seen and done."

            His throat burned and he had to swallow.  "At least I had a choice."

            "Yes.  And the only choices I have are ones that determine the fate of others.  When it comes to myself, my own life….  It seems everyone else gets a say in that, but me."

            Her fist banged against the window pane in an uncharacteristic display of anger.  "And I'm tired of it." She whirled around, her eyes ablaze and the light from the setting sun glowed around her like a fiery aura.   His mouth went dry.

"I'm not a doll, Heero.  And neither am I a queen.  I feel lost and confused, and love - so many things a queen would not.  Queens sit on their thrones high above their subjects, making abstract decisions about the lives of people whose names they'll never know.  I have neither such luxury, nor such punishment. " 

He stood still, rooted to the floor while she moved towards him.  "I know the names of the people whose fates I decide, I've seen their blood.  I know their pain.  And I will not seal myself away from that knowledge." 

"That's your decision, then? To do nothing?"

"No.  I cannot sit by and do nothing, Heero.  Not in the lives of my people.  And not in my own life."

She lifted her head and smiled.  It was a sad smile. She wore that expression much too often.  

"If you don't care for me in a romantic way, that is your decision, and I cannot change that.  Nor would I have ever wished to.  I would have simply wished you happiness with my whole heart and remembered you fondly after you had gone.  

"But for you to say that I cannot choose to be with you because of my…duties…."

Heero's hands curled into fists at his sides.  "It's the truth.  The sooner we can accept it--"  

"I will not accept it.  I can not accept it.  I've given everything else of myself."  Relena raised a trembling hand to her mouth and averted her eyes, as if seeking the strength to continue from the last rays of the setting sun.  "If I accept this, Heero, then there is nothing left of me, and I truly will be a queen.  An empty shell, a doll or puppet at the end of a string controlled by the phantom hands of destiny.  I've never been strong enough on my--"

He cut her off with a searing kiss, and she returned it with equal fervor.  His arms wrapped around her, cradling her close as they'd longed to do all day. Her hands tangled in the hair of his neck and she pressed her whole body against him. He tightened his grip on her waist and continued assaulting her lips in a greedy kiss.  

            After a long moment, she broke away.  His mind buzzed with a stream of thoughts that ran together into a steady hum – no one idea discernable from the rest. And his body hadn't the strength to disentangle himself, to push her away, to do what he should.  He was too selfish for that.… Heero buried his face in her neck and just held her.

            "You're strong enough, Relena," he whispered.  

            "Not alone.  Not without you.  Even if you don't…love--"

            He jerked his head up.  She hid her face in his chest.  He gently lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes.  "I…" His mouth was parched again, how could it be so easy for her to say, and so difficult for him? He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. 

            "Please, stay with me." He opened his eyes at her words and started to speak. She put a finger to his lips. "Until you have to go."

            He nodded.  A small smile formed on her face; a genuine smile this time.  

"Thank you."

            "You don't need to thank me, Relena.  I meant to…I tried to…explain," he swallowed but willed himself to try.  "This afternoon…"

            "Let's not talk about it." She started to pull away.

            "It hurt me, too."   

            "I'm sorry."

            He let out a sharp breath.  "It was my fault."

            She smiled, but her eyes didn't ignite with the expression this time.

            He nodded.  "You have something else to say.   But there's something I should--"

            A finger came to rest over his lips.  "You came here for an answer."

            He nodded again.  She slipped from his hold and went back to the window.  He followed.  

            The sky blazed with orange-red fire, molten, like lava that dripped from the clouds onto the horizon.  It was fatally beautiful, the way tongues of fire would dance and  devour necessary sustenance.  He wrapped an arm around her waist and she laid her head on his shoulder.  They stayed like that for several minutes, just watching the sun lose another battle in its constant war with the night sky. 

            "I've thought all day, reading various reports, my father's daily journal.  I wanted to know what he would do if he were alive and had to make this decision."

            Heero nodded and waited for her to continue.

            "I'm convinced he would say that the Sanq kingdom should stay out of it.  We're chiefly a pacifist nation.  To get involved is to go against everything this country stands for."

            Heero set his jaw.  

            "But pacifism shouldn't result in apathy or fear.  Nor should it be a symptom of frailty – perceived or real."

            "Relena…"

            She held up a hand.  "So, I thought about what my brother would do.  And it's not hard to imagine what his choice would be.  The fact that his decision would be different depending on whether he was in my position or his own makes it a very unreliable measurement."

            "What do_ you_ think is right, Relena?"

            "And that's the question I came to.  It doesn't matter what my father would choose, or what Milliardo would decide.  What matters is: what do I think?"

            He felt her tremble and she pulled away.  She stepped back into the middle of the room – her head bowed, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.  

She didn't look at him.  She just stood there looking like her heart was breaking all over again.  And it was like he saw her, really saw her, for the first time – not as his angel of mercy, or the image of leadership and strength.  She was right; she was no queen.  She was far more than that.

And she deserved better than a king – a knight that could find a way to rescue her, to save her from such pain.  

She raised her chin and stared at the far wall.  A single tear trickled down her cheek.  Heero felt like Zechs punched him in his wounded side, again.  He couldn't help her.  Not until she chose…

"I've delayed this long enough, but my decision never wavered once it was made.  Heero, I've decided that the Sanq Kingdom…."


End file.
